#and they were the only sh stories i knew of for years

[cloveroctobers]

HOW THEY DEAL WITH DISRESPECTFUL NEIGHBORS — MULTI [Summer Preferences]

A/N: thanks for voting on my poll, which I already knew who was going to win that but I still wanted to do a preference anyway since I never got around to writing what I originally wanted for my other characters on my summer prompt list rip to that idea! I’m writing in the order of which was voted from most to least highest minus one character.

WARNINGS: language, violence is sometimes the answer 🤭 + FC changed for Mikey due to recent news unfortunately, *GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, not here to argue with anyone that feels different and you’re always welcome to keep imagining JB or simply do not engage with this.

<- read my previous summer anthology prompt here.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

~ARMANDO~

He doesn’t take disrespect lightly.

The both of you lived just fine in your condo out in Miami, although Armando preferred the privacy more than anything he just kept this to the back of his mind that he was going to provide for your dream house together. Having your four year old daughter, Isaura only gave him more drive to get out of here.

The neighbors that lived on the floor directly above you, were all wide smiles and friendly making it their special job to try and introduce themselves to whoever they caught. They found you three at the pool one Sunday evening before dinner. Armando immediately felt they were weird telling you later that night in bed beside you, “they look like they eat people.”

“Armando!” You scolded as you slipped a bonnet on a half sleep Isaura, “they do but maybe they’re just the over friendly type.”

Armando sucked his teeth as he reached around you to snatch the sleepy toddler into his chest, “niña, can you say oblivious? tell mama that’s exactly what she is.”

Isaura just shifted her head looking away from the both of you.

“See, even your own daughter doesn’t want to listen to your mess. Give me my baby back so I can put her down,” you waved your fingers while Armando swings his legs to the edge of the bed.

He shifts the tiny girl against him and shakes his head, “nah, I got it. Got to make sure the fucken weirdos aren’t hiding in her room since you don’t want to believe me.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” You lecture while Armando rolls his eyes, peeking down to see if Isaura even budged at his foul language before you continued, “I don’t know what goes in your mind sometimes,” you sigh with a shake of your head as Armando makes his way to the door, “…now you know I’m going to be up half the night checking on her.”

“Don’t worry about it, daddy’s gonna take the daybed just in case.”

Frowning you respond, “So you’re just going to abandon me?”

Armando snorts, “there’s enough of me to go around but if you wanna stay hold up in here by yourself, when we have the hills have eyes lurking from the floor above, that’s on you.”

“Bastard.” You muttered just as Armando was about to shut the door.

“What was that, mami?”

“I said I’m getting my neck pillow.” You answered as Armando laughs to himself, leaving the door open just a crack before carrying on down the hallway.

Armando would peep the disrespect more than you would but mostly on separate occasions. First it started with the husband constantly taking Armando’s assigned parking spot with one of his many cars, he would always turn up right when Armando had to circle around to take someone else’s, and when he was face to face with the husband’s false apologies and story about how he had to keep his monster truck locked away in storage thirty minutes away from the building, yet he always decided to take it out when Armando worked late nights…which was pretty convenient if you asked Armando.

Then you would tell Armando how the wife would make…interesting comments about how many more kids you two planned to have. “Hopefully a soccer team with your good looks!” She would laugh as she gripped your wrist. She would also ask: How you two managed to have free time with a four year old and if she was receiving enough attention between the two of you? That last question was off putting because why was this woman worrying about your child? Then if you listened closely enough, around the time it was time for Isaura’s nap or bedtime, whether Mike, Marcus and his family, or your best friend or family were watching her while the both of you were at work, the couple would decide to either start salsa lessons (according to the wife, Amy) which ended up turning into salsa lessons with no clothes directly on the floor, the husband winked at Armando who was not the least bit impressed.

“I think it’s common courtesy that you two learn to keep it down for not only us who have a child…who also has a routine but for your other neighbors as well. I’m sure there’s plenty of classes out in town you two can get into outside of this building.” You hinted to them.

“Oh sorry! I told Kit we were being too loud, see honey?!” She weakly slaps the wannabe WWE star against his buff chest, “We’ll definitely keep everyone more in mind this time, again sorry about that.” Amy apologizes.

“A man has needs though, am I right?” Kit would laugh, clapping his hand down on Armando’s shoulder who peeked at it, wondering why this man was so comfortable touching him.

Armando sniffed, “and you need to have some respect is all that we’re saying. Along with removing your hand from me.”

“Hey now! No need for the animosity, we’re all friends here neighbor!” Kit says as he applies a little more pressure on his hold of Armando’s shoulder but that only causes Armando to darken his stare.

Even Armando knew that statement was fake. Next thing he knows, when he’s heading out to work the morning after, he’s got a broken side mirror on the driver’s side and a large scratch on the passenger door with Kit’s car—that’s usually parked to the right of Armando’s—already gone for the day. Armando doesn’t take long to assess the situation, jaw tight as he looks around the garage for where exactly the cameras are. He would be hacking those as soon as he clocked in and didn’t give a damn who had something to say about it. He ended up calling you on the way to work, thanks to him phoning Dorn to carpool—him and Kelly had a disagreement so she drove to work on her own—to tell you exactly what happened since it was one of those days where you clocked in earlier than he did.

“I’ll try and keep him from doing something stupid.” Dorn calls out to you from the driver’s side.

You whisper as you stepped out briefly from working with a client as an aesthetician, “would you? I know it’ll be hard—

“I’m right here.” Armando reminded, “I’m done dealing with their creepy asses, Kit better hope I don’t see him when I get home tonight because his ass might turn up missing.”

You didn’t even argue because once Armando had something made up in his mind, it was hard for him to ever see another perspective. Also you didn’t doubt that Kit had something to do with it.

The last straw was when Kit and Amy’s German shepherd nipped towards Isaura’s face, when you had a minor confrontation with Amy, who you ran into while out shopping. She tried to sweep over the fact that she admitted to wishing that it was Armando on top of her instead of her actual husband and that it wasn’t a big deal because Kit was doing the same with you. Not only did she fix her mouth to say that, she also said she thought about what a kid would look like with her looks and Armando’s. “There’s nothing wrong with daydreaming.”

She said and it felt like she had spit in your face at how wicked her smile was on her overfilled lips. Again she was too close in your space but once Isaura ripped a cry so loud below along with the sounds of snarling from Amy’s dog, you didn’t hesitate to pull your child up into your arms and to kick at the dog.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Amy yelled pulling on her pet’s leash, “He’s just an animal!”

“An animal who tried to bite my kid’s face off! You’re lucky my foot didn’t connect but next time my fist won’t miss yours.”

“Are you threatening me?!”

“It’s not a threat, It’s a promise.” You concluded, “Stay away from my family if you know what’s good for you.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Amy kept a tight hold on the leash now, “These are the things Kit and I get for being good neighbors?!”

You stopped in your tracks as you turned to give Amy one last look while you cradled a scared Isaura to your chest, “it means exactly what you think it means. Y’all keep saying your good neighbors but is that in the building with us or in your sick delusions? I’m warning you Amy, back the fuck off or you’ll really be sorry.”

Amy sticks her nose up in the air, “my uncle is the best lawyer in the city. If you’re thinking about harming my family then I’ll sue both of you so hard that little Laura will have no choice but to have a new family. Kit and I have been trying for months for a little one and Laura is the cutest thing.”

Laughing you found it hilarious that Amy thought she could continue to try you with her mind games. She really didn’t know who she was fucking with.

“I can guarantee that your uncle doesn’t have shit on my man. Also my father-in-law is a pretty good detective and he’s already heard about you two, just waiting for the word. The difference between you and I, is that I love only one man. And sweetie, it’s no competition when I’ve already won. Now you enjoy the rest of your day…before it expires.” It was your turn to send her a sickeningly charming smile as you spun back on your heels.

Leaving her like a gapping fish, you make your way back to your car, strapping Issy in with another caress to her face, quadruple checking that the dog didn’t do anything to her face and handing Issy one of her toys to cuddle with on the way back home. As you started your engine, you immediately called Armando through the car’s Bluetooth before pulling off from the curb.

It’s game night when there’s a knock on the door. Since Armando is helping Issy with the game piece on the game board, you push off the couch to get the door.

“Oh hi!” You greet, which makes Armando also move to get to his feet.

“We’re your new neighbors on the floor above who just moved in and we wanted to say thanks for the blueberry crumble and bottle of wine you sent our way, you really didn’t have to do that! We just thought it would be the kind thing to find the time to come down and introduce ourselves.” The woman speaks first with her hand held out.

You grasp her hand with a warm smile as you say, “mostly everyone is to themselves here but we got…pretty close with our old neighbors and my boyfriend, Armando and I thought we’d keep the tradition going.”

Armando gives a short wave at the two new faces as he stands beside you now, “hello,” he addresses the two while he bounces a giggly Issy on his hip.

“Aw, she’s so precious! Isn’t she, Steven?” The girl at the door elbows the guy beside her.

You take in her expression carefully, “do you two have any kids?”

She jabbed a thumb at the taller man, “Oh I’ll leave that all to my brother here.”

“I don’t have any…at least no one’s ever told me anything.” He nonchalantly shrugged while he looked off in thought up from his phone, while his sister rolls her eyes at him.

Armando snickers, which makes you quirk up a brow at him.

“Do you guys know where the other tenants moved off to? The agent says it was pretty abrupt but we got a steal on most of their furniture.” The young girl chats.

Armando speaks up, “heard they really wanted to explore more of Europe…guess Miami living inspired them to see what else the world has to offer.”

“Sweet,” Steven nods, “that would be a dream.”

“That is what they say life is,” Armando adds as he sends a quick wink to you while you lightly shake your head at him. He then slips an arm around your waist appearing as a Kodak moment to the siblings outside the door, “but welcome to the neighborhood you two, I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be good neighbors.”

In short: he eliminates the problem.

~RIO~

He had been away on a business trip when he gets back home earlier than expected. He likes to do this sometimes, liking to surprise you with his pop-in’s—take that how you will. What he wasn’t expecting was his ex sitting in the sitting room with you, the two of you chatting to the right of the home from the foyer over a bottle of tequila.

“…so the hell are you gonna tell lollipop king?”

“Girl, who?”

“You know his name, Christopher!”

You laugh followed by a groan, “he’ll find out sooner than later since old man Stewart and him are practically golfing buddies who act like they don’t gossip.”

Rio used that moment to clear his throat from his leaned position against the doorway. He didn’t like how your guard was down as he just lingered there, you slouched on the couch and Rhea balled up in one of the living chairs but that was another conversation. He needed to know just what you were hiding from him and now.

“Tell me what, mama?” Rio rasped, hands clasped in front of him.

Rhea’s mouth formed into an O-shape, getting ready to collect her things but Rio cuts his eyes at the short haired woman too, “nah, you don’t gotta leave on my account.”

“Believe me I’m not,” Rhea sassed as she collected her square glass and the almost empty bottle, “I’m going to check on our son while you guys—debrief.”

You gasped, “this involves you too, you know?!”

“I don’t live here!”

“Could have fooled me.” Rio adds as Rhea makes her way by him, bumping her shoulder with his.

Rio just snorts as the woman heads across the hall towards the side entrance of the kitchen. When he sets his eyes back on you, he watched as you used one of your hands to pinch in between your brows as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. The buzzed haired man then plops down beside you, lolling his head to meet your gaze but you just quickly down the rest of your drink.

“What’s going on?” Rio questions.

You exhale, “oh nothing much, it’s good to see you though!”

“You’re tipsy on a Wednesday afternoon and not on wine…something’s up?” Rio analyzed you pretty quick, which was to be expected.

Exhaling you close your eyes, thinking if maybe you just dozed off then Rio would leave you alone and Rhea would sneak out with Marcus out the back. You knew that was a slim chance since that boy loved his father a lot and would want to see him before heading back home with his mom.

Your eyes were widened as Rio gripped your bandaged hand, making you wince as he did so. You were hoping that he wouldn’t notice but you couldn’t be that much of a fool, not when it came to your husband.

“I’m going to ask only one more time before I start looking for answers myself, so tell me what happened?” Rio quizzes one last time.

Sighing you meet Rio’s eyes as you tell him, “Polly’s mother is visiting and she started shit with Marcus while he was outside playing in the front yard. I was bringing the plants from the garage up front when this all happened but Stewart saw it happening from his window and came out before I got up front. I handled it, she got HOA involved, and now apparently there’s a meeting on Saturday morning.”

The shift in Rio was instant as he sat up, still holding your hand in his lap, “she don’t even live here and she thinks she can say something to the kid? Did she do this to your hand? Give me the details, mama.”

And so you did. You told him how Marcus was running around out front keeping himself entertained while you were dragging the outdoor plants that you thought would look nice in the backyard up front from the garage. It took some time for you to pick up on the yelling, making the palm of your hand get impaled by one of agave leaves that you tossed to the ground at the familiar rebuttal of Marcus’ voice. Your instincts kicked in even if your hand bled like crazy and hurt like hell, you didn’t take kindly to strangers screaming at kids.

You were once an elementary school teacher before becoming a housewife to Rio. There was always a certain way that you needed to speak to people, especially kids and you weren’t having it with Polly’s mother who always visited in the summer. Polly was cool, even her mother-in-law was tolerable (although she was a yapper) but you just didn’t understand how someone like Polly had a mother as nasty as this Karen who was drilling into Marcus who she didn’t even know. In her mind she believed that Marcus specifically shouldn’t be playing around the sidewalk, that it was against the “rules” of this community that she wasn’t sure Marcus even belonged to and should be playing in a different area instead.

You guys had a fence but Marcus said that he hit the ball too far and it ended up on the sidewalk so that’s the only reason he came around the fence. You didn’t care what the reason was, he knew not to play near the street of the gated community but you trusted his word regardless and old man Stewart confirmed this with a nod of his head. He had the both of your back’s and you guys spent the holidays every so often at each other’s houses.

“It got ugly, babe. Told her to keep her finger out my face and to not ever speak to my kid like that again. She tried to chest bump my back so I turned around and shoved her on her ass. She’s lucky I didn’t smack the shit out her wal-mart Glenn Close looking ass. Which was enough ammo for her to call HOA but we’ve got cameras just as much as Polly’s got her ring camera so I’m not worried. I just didn’t want Marcus to deal with that bullshit.”

Rio ends up smiling at you and you widen your eyes at him. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Oh it’s not—I’m just proud of you.”

“For not going to jail?”

Rio tilts his head to the side, “The verdicts probably still out on that one, knowing the kind of woman she is.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll have to talk to Polly.” Rio decided as he caressed your fingertips.

“She’s already sent mountains of texts, she’s with us and says she’ll work on talking to her demon—I mean mother.” You can’t fight against the liquor but even still, you said what you said.

Rio nods, “you don’t even got to worry about the rest. I got us.”

“…do I want to know?”

“Nah,” Rio shrugged as he used his other hand to caress your face, “just continue being the best thing that happened to me. I know I don’t have to thank you but I want to, for looking at Marcus as your own.”

You laugh, “he’s a great kid, part of you, which makes me love you guys even more so of course I will—without question.”

Rio pulls you by the chin to his lips, which you’ve been missing all week and when he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, he pulls back with a grin. “Later mama, I got to make sure you two are good first.”

“Huh?” Your eyes fluttered open as Rio holds your own hand up in front of your face to prove his point, “that’s just a scratch.”

“Our girl will be the judge of that.” Rio tells, “Can’t believe you didn’t try and sneak her over here.”

“Thought she was on business with you guys.”

“We got more than one medic, mama. I kept the best here with y’all.”

“How kind.”

“I’m a kind guy.”

“I don’t think the dust bag will think so when you’re finished spooking her.”

Rio doesn’t fight his grin but replies, “Who says I’m gonna do it? I got people for that but the message will be real clear.”

“Rio—

He shushes you as he pecks your lips once more, making you lean your forehead against his, happy that he’s home before he’s sending out a code to your number one medic girl to stop by the house ASAP.

the both of you break away as the thudding of steps decended down the steps, revealing Marcus who called out Rio’s name, who he needed further reassurance from.

“Hey bud,” Rio starts as he embraces the young boy before knocking their fist together, “you good?”

He slowly nods but Rio knows he’s not, although he had a feeling Marcus held his own. It usually took a lot to bring it out of him to defend himself but Rio would see for himself once he looked at the footage tonight.

“You know what? Let’s go play outside while the ladies finish up.” Rio gets to his feet and the slight panic in Marcus’ face is evident, making your heart break while Rhea tightens the folding of her arms.

Rio squeezed Marcus’ shoulder, “hey, when you’re with me you remember you’re the king of your own castle, aight? Nobody can tell you nothing, move how you wanna move and own it. This is your neighborhood too, you understand?”

“…yes dad.”

“Alright? I got goalie.”

Rio sends a firm look to you two ladies before he heads outside with Marcus right beside him.

He attentively analyzed the situation before deciding what else needs to be done. One thing you could never do was go against the family he built and that was always serious to him. Anybody that messed with his family, immediately became his target and if it had to be a part time neighbor from across the street?

So be it.

They’ll learn soon enough.

They always do.

~LUCA~

“Babe! You’re not gonna believe this.” Luca calls out to you as he slams the front entrance door from down below shut, before making his way upstairs.

You can always tell when Luca’s home because he has a tendency to be heavy handed, always slamming the door that it tends to shake the house. It’s not something he purposely does, majority of the time he doesn’t even notice but it is a thing and even your neighbors in the townhouse to the left of you mockingly mentioned it.

They were assholes anyway and should be the last ones to talk about noise. Having loud company over every other day and some type of event at their home every other weekend, also crowding up the streets, without inviting you guys on multiple occasions. There were eight specific units on this street that were all grouped and managed underneath the same property and you would think they would also include you two. The both of you quickly learned that Chicago was much different than Copenhagen.

And what Luca remembered.

“I wouldn’t take it to heart and give it some time, yeah? Otherwise? They can piss right off!” Luca’s older sister that he’s reconnected with while being back in the states tells you two, laughing lightly as she’s helping you two unpack weeks ago.

You wouldn’t have if you didn’t decide to be neighborly, bringing them their mail when it accidentally got mixed in with yours, waving at them in passing as you chatted with the other residents, and then actually going over to introduce yourselves with a platter. It was all fraudulent and they just didn’t want to be bothered with you two, Luca gradually started to forget about it after finding a new position at one of the top three upscale restaurants in the city until you would bring it up. And of course he listened to anything that bothered you.

Their music was too loud for hours at a time sometimes until two in the morning on a week night, Luca would calmly address the situation to the guy of the household when he would get a hold of him on his way in from running around the city in sweats and a hoodie—yes in the middle of a scorching August, the both of you always had early mornings with you being a medical assistant down at the hospital and with Luca always having to do prep. You didn’t have the patience to stick around for the guy and his significant other never came to the door when you both knew she was home probably hungover.

Luca was friendly in his approach about it and at first, the athlete told Luca that they were just celebrating as much as they could before he was back on the road to get in the box yet he couldn’t help but to throw in a jab, “They do have these things called single family homes. Maybe you two should consider that.” In the end he said they’d try to keep it down. That still rubbed you the wrong way when Luca slipped up and told you that part.

Which only meant turning the music up even louder that the house rattled on their end. If their garbage was over filled, they would dump some of it into yours attracting raccoons but would then claim it had to be one of the other neighbors—you two had a ring cam, it wasn’t. The last straw was the fiancée drunkly pissing right in the path of your garage, which you stepped in the next morning when you were running late to work.

Humming you turn your attention from the street view of the balcony to Luca who stood in the doorway. You sat comfortably in the outdoor chair, paperback turned over on the table as you finished sipping at your fruit water.

“Hey baby,” you greet with a smile, relaxed and bare faced on your day off in the summer light as you held your face up for Luca to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he sat in the chair across from you.

Luca stretched his arms across the table as he greeted you back, “hello darling…you’re not gonna believe this!” He continues.

“What? That you suddenly caved and like Chicago dogs now?” You quizzed, folding your own arms as you leaned against the table, ready to listen.

Luca chuckles, “not likely, babe. Guess I won’t ever fit into their standards, yeah?”

“I think the world will still turn.”

“I think so too,” Luca agrees with a small smirk, “listen to this. I went to the bakery, the one Marcus is working part-time at now because of the whole thing with Carmy’s uncle—just to check on him you know? Guess who was also in there?”

You raise your brows after finding it sweet that Luca made it his mission to check in on Marcus. The two hit it off when Marcus trained underneath him for a couple of weeks back then and he’s been over to the flat a few times along with Sydney. Luca didn’t give you much time to guess since he was so adamant about telling you about his day. Usually when something was on Luca’s mind, his words went haywire out of excitement—depending what it was of course.

“Ryan!”

You blinked at the news of your boyfriend running into your problematic next door neighbor in slight confusion, “okay…a little surprised he likes baked goods since he gives the impression that he drinks egg yolks and eats raw meat for fun.”

It was Luca’s turn to furrow his naturally arched brows, “I’m not quite sure how you’ve gotten that idea and you might want to cut back on your time watching Santa Clarita Diet. It might help.”

You snort as you wave your fingers along for the now buzzed blond to continue. It wouldn’t be the first show that you watched where Luca passed judgment on. He is definitely the one to ask a thousand questions while you’re trying to watch something.

“Ryan told me, Leah was rushed to the hospital yesterday morning.” Luca informs you, “Want to know what for?”

Sitting back against the chair, you keep your arms crossed and fight the urge to roll your eyes, “…not particularly, no.”

Luca bites down on his bottom lip trying to hold it in but doesn’t, “she crapped out a parasite.”

Your mouth drops open, “You’re lying.”

“Honest to flavor town.” Luca does the praying motion before pointing to the sky and you knew it was serious business if he mentioned Guy Fieri.

Clasping a hand against your mouth you try to hide your snickers but Luca picks up on the fact that you found this a little too amusing.

“…what have you done?” He points an accusatory finger at you.

Lifting your shoulders, your lips twist around in laughter and you dared peeked back at Luca who was awaiting your answer. You wouldn’t leave him in the dark much longer, “fine! I sent a cleanse her way after all that day drinking and with my medical knowledge…I thought I’d give a helping hand.”

“Which means what?” Luca pressed, sitting back as well as he listened to you.

“I may have or may not have used the papayas that Grace left here before she went back to Texas when we went to that farmer’s market,” you slowly admit of your time with your old friend who came to visit with her baby girl Charlie, informing your boyfriend of the slight clues, “we both know I’m allergic and I didn’t want them to go to waste. So I made our lovely neighbors some papaya cereal with the seeds, put it up real nice in a jar for them to enjoy. Left it by their door and watched Ryan bring the bait in.”

Luca exhales, “you’re actually starting to scare me.”

“Remember that old nutritionist who’s heavily spiritual I told you about that we always end up seeing once a month at the hospital?” You ask while Luca nods his head, “she experienced the same thing partygirlLeah99 did but her’s was intentional.”

The bomb that you dropped had Luca clenching his eyes shut, “what you’re telling me is…you basically gave our neighbor some form of a laxative?”

“Just removed the toxins and clearly Leah has some. How many parasites was it?”

Luca shook his head, “no, no, no. We’re not just going to skip over the chaotic evil you’ve just done.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I think it was more lawful evil…maybe even good. She pissed on our property, Luca! And Ryan’s a dick.”

Luca holds his forehead now stressed, “Yeah and he can K.O. us if he really wanted to if he ever found out! He’s a professional boxer—

“I don’t care! Lessons need to be taught and he’s out of here in the fall anyway so that’s one less problem we have to deal with.” You shrug as you reach for your water again but Luca snatched it back.

He sighs, “we talked about this…you can’t just go and take matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first. I said I would talk to them about the peeing situation—

“You tried talking to them before! They don’t care about us, and sure they don’t owe us anything but I worked really hard on that charcuterie board, then they excluded us constantly and probably will do it again once Halloween comes around—

“So that’s what this is about? You’re worried about Halloween?” Luca questions, knowing it was one of your favorite Halloween parties.

“How dare they throw a summerween party when I’m the number one queen of the spooks!” You childishly turn your head to peek out into Chicago’s scenery from your first balcony.

Luca sips at your water now and exaggerates as he lets out an, “ah! That’s refreshing but I don’t know what to say about my girlfriend being upset over some people that we don’t even know well enough to care about their perceptions of us, if they even have any.”

Both of your professions caused you to be around all sorts of people, especially some downright mean ones but you both persevered. Luca would always take it as a learning curve, whereas you tended to take things more personal majority of the time. Yes you were the type to cry when angry, go ahead and sue your sensitive heart! Luca was only a little older than you and slightly better at communicating—when he wasn’t a nervous wreck—but you on the other hand tended to proceed with action rather than words or a conversation like Luca.

“Don’t say anything to me, just love me, choose me,” you playfully recite while Luca scoffs, “and wish those bitches an early happy Halloween, specifically from me to them. What she won’t know what hurt her.” You wink while Luca runs a hand over his buzzed summer look in shock.

“Well it actually did,” Luca frowns with his hands held out although you’re still unphased, “and doesn’t this count as assault?”

There goes the panic everybody!

You knew a good lawyer that shared the same blood as Luca (if it ever came to that) you weren’t worried and maybe you were chaotic evil after all? Depends who you ask.

Pouting you say, “Did she die?”

“No!”

“Then everybody wins!” You clap as you push back from the table, “So…What’s for dinner?”

“Not fucking papayas that’s for sure.” Luca states while you laugh, beginning to collect your things to bring back inside.

Luca sits outside for a moment longer, you briefly kiss his lips, him shaking his head at you afterwards once more as he whacks your backside before you head in to search the fridge, and he stares out into the city just wondering what else this place will bring.

Hopefully better understanding of being neighbors in the states!

MIKEY

“The hell happened to you?” Mikey asks, sneaking up behind you in your kitchen.

Which wasn’t unfamiliar for him to do but you did let out a yelp as you stood by your coffee and tea counter. You turned to your old friend, who scanned his eyes all over your filth covered clothes.

“My neighbor Lorraine is mad that I called her son out for being a pervert. Then she tried to argue that my dog is barking at all times of the night so I don’t have the right to speak on her son!” You paced the floor.

Mikey crosses his arms, “well she isn’t too bright because that thing in there is far from a dog,” he starts while you give him the side eye for talking shit about your Maine coon, “and what’s this about a pervert?”

You sigh, “..her son is just this college dropout who’s apparently into astronomy and thinks I don’t catch him with his telescope set out on the front sidewalk, right where the living room window is, as if he’s gone camping with my body being the view!”

It wouldn’t be Mikey’s first time catching you streaking around the house either—that was your fault for giving him a key—but this random kid? He had a problem with.

Mikey rubs at his facial hair, “Was he the one that did this to you?”

You huff, “that little bitch ran as soon as mommy Lorraine thought it would be nice to dump her trash on me out in the courtyard.”

There was always something going on in your courtyard out back, whether it was random cookouts even in the winter!, residents fighting over which outdoor seating technically belonged to them (it didn’t belong to anyone, everybody at the condo had access to it), to Lorraine overpopulating the backyard with her garden and horrible smelling manure, and fires being started by the little kids for fun, Mikey can never say it’s a dull moment on Sunnyside Ave.

“…and what did you do?” Mikey questioned, his lips twisting at the corners, knowing he wasn’t the best influence, especially if the shoe was on the other foot.

Which you knew, hanging out with him, Richie, and even Michelle always had the potential go left very quickly.

“There’s onion juice or some shit in my eye,” you start using your wrist to wipe at your red eye before saying, “and if I somehow end up blind before I get in to my eye doctor this year…it’s a wrap for her.”

“So you’re going in for the silent kill?” Michael summarizes, “that leaves the creeper to me then, is he home? I’d love to have a talk with ‘em!”

He points towards the back door which leads out to the courtyard. You leap forward, latching onto Michael’s wrist, “which I’m sure you’ll get your chance but I see you bought something for me?”

Michael rolls his eyes as he glanced back at the counter that contained a bag, “you’re real observant aren’t ya?”

“I’m also hungry but I need to get this stench off me first.” You slap your hands beside your thighs.

He jokingly steps forward to take a whiff towards you, “…I wasn’t going to say anything but whew!”

“Shut up, Mikey!” You shove him back but he just laughs.

Mikey pinches a piece of your hair on your way by, pulling something from it, “looks like she got you good with some shallot skin and soil if you ask me! But I got a nice Cubano waiting for ya when you get out.”

Your mouth watered at the mention of your favorite sandwich Mikey always brought over to you every other Tuesday, “can’t wait for that baby to bring me the biggest serotonin.”

Mikey grins at you.

When you drag your eyes back to meet his you ask, “so how was your day, bub? Good?”

“Yeah! I think it’s going to be alright.”

You hold your hand out, “tell me about it?”

He takes your hand as you lead him to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you quickly get into your skincare, terrified of skin mites thanks to some shit Sugar sent to a group chat between you, her, and Michelle. Michael doesn’t mind watching you do your routine, falling into quiet chatter before you strip out of your clothes.

He tries not to let his stare linger but he always thought you were a goddess, even with your clothes on. The comfortability between you two was strong, that at times it felt like there was nothing to ever be afraid of, especially when it came to showing your most vulnerable selves to each other. It’s not long before he’s joining you behind the shower liner, helping each other clean away whatever the day held before you’re embracing each other, arms tucked underneath each others as your now loud conversation fights against the pressure from the shower head.

He tells you all about the possible new hire, her name being Tina and how he feels like she’ll be the one to keep Chicagoland on their toes and in shape. He’s got that spark in his eye when he talks about her, finding a connection and in hopes that she will turn up when she’s ready but he has no doubt that she will.

“Maybe you can call her for backup if you ever come face to face with string bean nose Lorraine.” Mikey jokes over the water.

You scoff, “if the garbage can actually hit me, Lorraine just might need to tap Tina in for her to get me off her ass!”

Mikey chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before you tuck your head underneath his chin. If you could’ve, you would have held onto him for eternity.

But…that’s not the way life played out in later episodes.

When Tuesday’s hit, sometimes it still feels like he’s here around your condo trying to scare the shit out of your cat, when he’s the one who’s actually terrified of him. And when you catch yourself staring at Lorraine’s nose a little too long during your small morning chats before you’re both leaving for work—that’s right—you two are now cordial enough to have civilized conversations, and yes you had Michael Berzatto to thank for that.

For constantly seeing the best in everybody, even crazy gardening neighbors who loved composting and believing their son could do no wrong.

Who only knows what Mikey’s conversation with that kid was like. You had a feeling that Richie knew, there was a slim chance that Richie was his ride along when you were off at work or someplace else but Richie would always be Mikey’s keeper.

And you were fine with that, as long as you never saw a telescope again.

ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

SUMMER ‘24 PROMPTS FIN. (For now!)

[quack-quack-snacks]

Sleepy

My Navigation and Masterlist

Pairing(s): Gwi-nam x Fem!Reader Author's Note: For the sake of fanfiction - and this applies to all of my aouad stories unless stated otherwise - we shall make it so that Gwi-nam never sexually assaulted/harassed Eun-ji and neither did his friend group because what they did WAS SA/SH and I feel like so many people gloss over that fact. They have never SA/SH anyone and are just regular bullies who just harass and beat people up normally.  Summary: Even turning into a zombie won't stop Gwi-nam from getting back to you before you wake up. Warnings: Normal AOUAD gore and violence, Gwi-nam pushing that girl to her death in the kitchen scene, I think that's it but lmk if there's any more you can find! Word Count: 6,106

Lunch.

One of your favorite parts of the day, because everybody is too preoccupied with their food and their friends to look at you. You always sat alone at your table, right in the middle of the lunch room. You had a great view of everybody around you from here. People-watching became something you were used to doing. 

You didn’t really have any real friends, only ones you would talk to occasionally in the halls and at the beginning of classes. You never would actually text them outside of class, and the conversations would dull after the topic of school stopped, but you liked them nonetheless. You were more of an introvert anyways so not requiring yourself to make friends outside of school was nice. No requirements or plans to attend. There was really only one person who you would actually consider your friend; the only person you would willingly get out of bed to hang out with. 

And he was currently throwing pieces of broccoli at the back of your head.

Yoon Gwi-nam. The school bully’s gopher and, unfortunately, your best friend. You’d been his friend since 7th grade before he joined the group of the bad and left you alone. You weren’t too upset since he still hung out with you outside of school and showed you his friendly affection in other ways - such as with the broccoli bits that were tangled in your hair at the moment - but it got lonely at times. You also knew he only was in their group because of how you’d gotten bullied at the beginning of freshman year and he stood up for you. From there, he also got bullied until one day it just… stopped. For the both of you. The next time you saw him, he was smirking with an arm wrapped around Myeong-hwan’s shoulder as the boy berated a timid-looking girl who had tears running down her cheeks. 

He’d explained everything after school when you’d been ignoring him and you reluctantly agreed to his actions, knowing he was doing it for your benefit as much as, if not more than, his. You didn’t like it, but you weren’t sure of any way to stop him after he’d already dug himself too deep. 

Another broccoli piece hit your head and you leaned your head down to hide your face and your smile. To everyone, you just looked like another one of Gwi-nam and Myeong-hwan’s victims but this wasn’t bullying. This was something you had been doing since the both of you were in seventh grade. It was a test to see how long you could go without getting annoyed and if it lasted more than 10 minutes then you got a beautiful reward of a nice, crisp 5 dollar bill. If you lost, you had to lose said nice, crisp 5 dollar bill. 

The constant hitting was getting on your nerves and you prepared yourself to lose $5 just until you saw students. They were acting weird, crowding around the glass wall leading to the outdoors and screaming. They banged on the door until it broke and everyone fell to the ground in a pile. You stood up to rush forward to help them but stopped halfway across the room when you saw blood.

They were… eating each other.

You stood there paralyzed as you watched and couldn’t move even as one of them started rushing towards you. Just as the bloodied student got within a foot of your face, it was suddenly launched backward by a familiar sneaker.

“Are you okay?” You heard Gwi-nam ask you and scream your name but you just stared in shock at the body that contorted on the floor before it shot back up and roared. Just as it started to charge at you, Gwi-nam yanked you as he grabbed a lunch tray and slammed it across the beast’s face. It fell to the ground and Gwi-nam grabbed your hand to drag you away from the swarm. The sprinklers had turned on from the kitchen catching on fire and suddenly everything was slippery and you could barely keep your footing.

Correction, you couldn’t keep your footing. You slipped to the ground and Gwi-nam’s hand fell from your own when he was tackled by a zombie. He only barely was able to grab another lunch tray and stick it between the beast’s teeth before it could bite him. You quickly stood up and kicked the zombie off of him, slipping while trying to lift Gwi-nam and running hand in hand towards the closing doors of the kitchen. You crouched down and ducked under the metal table before any of the ones in the room could see you. Quickly after, you were joined by two others, a boy and a girl. 

“Get out! No!” Gwi-nam whisper-yelled as he tried to force them back out but you just pulled his hands away from the boy’s hair. 

“Gwi-nam stop! They’ll hear us! Just let them in,” you whispered to him and he rolled his eyes but knew you were right. As everyone piled in, you almost yelped when your legs got pushed out into the walkway but held your hand over your mouth as you pulled your legs back in, holding your breath as you waited to see if any zombie had seen you. Luckily they hadn’t. 

Gwi-nam cursed and glared at the boy who had unintentionally, or maybe intentionally, pushed your leg out. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in between his legs so you were laying against his chest to make room for the two as you curled in on yourself. You were too much in shock to think about the crush you’d been harboring for him for years as the first of many tears started to fall down your cheek. A small and almost inaudible whimper escaped your lips but Gwi-nam heard it and quickly used one of his hands to cover your mouth while the other wrapped around your waist and pulled your back further into his chest as he rocked you slightly. No other sounds left you but the tears continued to fall. 

The girl across from you wasn’t as lucky. She whimpered loudly as she cried and you reached out to take her hand, trying to get her to calm down but she just cried louder. 

Gwi-nam let go of your mouth and waist to reach forward and wrap his hands around her face to cover her mouth. “Shh! Shut the fuck up!” He gritted out through his teeth quietly. His head snapped up when he heard snarling before making the quick decision to just kick her out from under the table. She screamed, attracting all of the zombies’ attention and she tried to get up and run away but they got her. You covered your mouth as your breathing quickened and clenched your eyes tightly together. Gwi-nam pulled you into his chest and your head rested in the crook of his neck. The water from the sprinklers was still dripping down the sides of the table the three of you hid under. Your clothes and hair were soaked completely and so were Gwi-nam’s. More tears fell from your eyes and you clinged to his shirt tightly. 

“Go get it,” you heard the boy from above tell the boy across from the two of you. 

“No. I won't,” he protested, whimpering when he saw the glare on his face grow. 

“You stupid little…” Gwi-nam reached forward to grab onto his hair and yanked it. 

“Stop. Please!” He begged. “Just send her! She’s crying just like the other girl was!” He suggested, thinking he was giving a good solution. 

Gwi-nam didn’t speak for a second and you heard the boy let out a sigh of relief when his hair was released. “You know what, you’re right,” you heard him say and your body tensed. He wasn’t actually going to send you out there, was he? “She is crying.”

You forced your body to relax, accepting whatever would happen to you next but tensed back up in surprise when Gwi-nam kicked the boy out into the open. 

“But she’s important.”

The boy quietly started crying when he saw the zombies running towards him and latching onto his leg. He grabbed onto your leg, pulling you with him as he begged for help. 

“Please, help!” He dragged you out from under the table and you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming as you desperately kicked at his hands. Gwi-nam came up from behind you and dragged you away, helping you to your feet before moving the both of you to dodge a zombie approaching him from behind. He quickly pushed you down so you were climbing through the space under the metal table before following closely behind and moving out of the way just as you put another, smaller, table in between the space of the two of you and the zombie. It just barely stopped the zombie from underneath, who you realized was the girl Gwi-nam had kicked out from under the table, from biting the two of you as she reached desperately but to no avail. As the two of you took a deep breath of relief from the zombie being out of reach, you quickly tugged Gwi-nam away by the sleeve after seeing another zombie approaching from the right and pushed a moving cart in front of the undead boy, causing him to fall over and scramble to get up. You both backed up and you heard someone trying to get your attention from beside you. 

“Hey, kids. Down here. Come quick!” The older lunch lady told you and motioned for you to join her under the countertop. You let out a breath of relief as you moved towards her but it faltered when you saw the zombie you knocked over with the cart get up and rush towards you. Gwi-nam quickly grabbed your wrist and moved you out of the way as he grabbed the woman’s outreached hand and pulled her in front of him just as the zombie latched its teeth onto her neck. Her screams echoed through the small room and you let out a shaky breath as he pushed both the woman and the zombie away before rushing forward, your hands still interlocked, and trying to get to the other side of the kitchen. He stopped short and turned around to go the other direction when he saw the boy who suggested throwing you to the zombies contort his body in odd ways before getting up and scrambling towards you. Another zombie ran towards Gwi-nam but he stopped just short to avoid being the next victim of the virus, pulling you away from the zombie boy sneaking up on you from behind. Gwi-nam bent down suddenly and grabbed a knife, holding it out in front of him as he pushed you behind him and into a corner. Feeling useless, you looked around for something, anything, to help and luckily saw a butcher’s knife laying on a cutting board where lettuce pieces were scattered around on. As Gwi-nam was looking at one of the zombies on the other side of the room, the girl trapped underneath the metal table had escaped and jumped towards him before you grabbed her hair to yank her back, slashing her across the neck and getting blood scattered across your hand and face. You didn’t have any time to be disgusted or wipe yourself off when the lunch lady came up to you, now zombified, and tried to pull your arm into her mouth only for you to slash her across the face with your knife and then again across her throat, successfully making her drop to the floor in a lifeless heap. You looked over just in time to see the boy who turned the lunch lady into a zombie charge for Gwi-nam only to be thrown to the ground after he stabbed him through the neck with his own knife. Hastily, the two of you killed off the remaining zombies in the room together and breathed heavily after you finished. 

You walked over to the sink and grabbed a paper towel from a roll to your left before wetting it and wiping down your face before turning to Gwi-nam and walking over to him. It wasn’t a lot, but he had blood drops scattered along his face so you gently reached up to wipe them away and he just watched you in silence with an unknown look in his eyes as you did. 

Once you were done, you let your hand fall to your side and dropped the wipe to the side with a heavy sigh. The sound of creaking was heard to the side and the both of you looked over in fear as the gate protecting you from the horde of zombies surrounding the kitchen started to break in some areas. “We should go. I don’t think that will hold them for much longer. Especially since they know we’re in here and probably won’t back down anytime soon,” you told him and he nodded in agreement. He looked around before setting his eyes on the window of the room and pointing to it. 

“There. We can use that to leave. We definitely can’t use the kitchen entrance so I think this will be the best option,” he explained and you hummed in agreement as you both walked up to it. You saw a lever to the side and quickly unlatched it before pushing the window open and looking around outside to see if there was anything, or anyone, out there that would put either of you at risk. The sun was going down and it was harder to see but you looked over and saw a small alleyway that appeared to be empty. You quickly jumped up onto the windowsill and Gwi-nam frantically put his hands on your waist to stop you from falling, which you let out a small laugh at. You sent him a look behind your shoulder and he rolled his eyes before playfully pretending to push you forward which you flinched at but then let out a small laugh. Jumping down onto the other side of the window, you kept watch as Gwi-nam helped himself get over the sill to hop down beside you. The both of you snuck behind the alleyway and peeked behind the wall to look for any escape. By that point,  the sun had faded behind the horizon and the world was encased in darkness besides the lights that automatically turned on from the school’s lampposts. Looking around, you noticed a bike. Without looking, you lightly tapped Gwi-nam on the chest to get his attention and pointed at it. 

“Fuck, luck us,” he exclaimed quietly and looked around to see how much of a risk the path to the bike was. “All we need to do is get to the bike.”

Grabbing your hand in one of his and his knife in the other, he quickly set a path to there. You noticed zombies had realized your appearance and tried to tug him back but it was too late. Letting go of his hand, you grabbed an oncoming zombie by the shoulders and threw it to the ground behind you, helping Gwi-nam up from where he’d fallen. You both sprinted to the vehicle and you grabbed both Gwi-nam and your own knives while he hastily got on the bike, trying to get it started and going quick enough for you to jump on so the two of you could go. Unfortunately, as he started ascending the bike, the two of you noticed the chain was broken and you cursed at your luck. 

Not so lucky after all. 

Abandoning the bike, the two of you jumped off and made a run for the school’s front entrance. The bike had slowed down the zombies behind you but the ones in front of you were still a risk and you had to stab one to stop it from getting too close. You gave Gwi-nam his knife back after you two had successfully made it back into the building and closed the glass doors behind you. Letting out an exasperated groan, you yanked Gwi-nam’s hand and pulled him along as you saw more zombies chasing after you, these ones inside of the building with you. You both ran around through the corridors, getting cornered by zombies but luckily finding an open door. 

The principal’s office.

You both ran in and Gwi-nam slammed the door shut behind him. You turned around just in time for a zombie to lunge at you and you shoved its chest hard so it fell backwards. Gwi-nam grabbed one that was creeping up behind you and stabbed it a few times through the neck before throwing it over the principal’s desk where you heard it twitching and groaning before going silent. While he dealt with the another one, you handled the other two and the two of you cleared the room with great amounts of exerted effort. 

You bent forward and rested your hands on your knees as you took deep breaths in to try and regulate your breathing. “Fuck. What the fuck. This is so fucked up,” you rambled under your breath and was Gwi-nam carelessly threw his knife down onto the coffee table before resting his hands above his head to try and regulate his own breathing. 

“I hate this fucking school,” he complained and unceremoniously plopped down onto one of the soft chairs in the room. Walking over, you plopped down onto the one next to him and sighed. 

“Let’s just go to sleep for a bit, we’re both too fucking tired to think properly, let alone fight anymore. Maybe tomorrow we can try to find another way out,” you reached over to where a modern rotary phone resided and tried dialing 119 but the dead dial tone playing through showed you that it was either broken or the calling services no longer worked. You sighed in exhaustion before falling to the side and resting your head on the arm rest of the chair. You could feel Gwi-nam’s eyes on you but didn’t bother looking up at him as your eyes fell heavily closed and your breathing seemed to even out on its own. The soft hand that fell onto your hair and gently caressed it away from your face didn’t help in keeping you awake and you felt your consciousness slipping through your fingers like sand at the beach. 

The next morning, Gwi-nam woke with a start as he felt tapping on his arm and turned to see the one and only principal next to him. His hand fell away from where it limply rested atop your head and you let out a small groan of protest in your sleep which he would have thought was adorable if he wasn’t just rudely awoken by one of the last people he wanted to see. “Hey. You're Gwi-nam, right?” The principal asked him while he looked around nervously.

“What? Why?”

“How is it outside? Still the same?” He pestered and Gwi-nam groaned as he realized the situation he was still in, turning over in his seat to try and go back to sleep, now knowing neither you nor him were in any danger. 

“You can drive a car, right?” The principal asked him and he just looked up at him before shaking his head lightly. 

“I can't,” he denied. 

“Come on!” The principal complained. “I had to cover up your mess last year when you guys drove your dad's car and caused an accident!” Gwi-nam just looked around in slight embarrassment before looking back up at him questioningly. 

“Why do you ask?”

The principal reached into his pocket and retrieved a keychain with his car keys attached. “Here's my car key. It's in the parking lot. License plate, 7340,” he turned to go to his desk, opening a drawer and retrieving something from there before closing it loudly. Gwi-nam’s head snapped over to where you were still laying asleep and breathed out a sigh of relief when you didn’t even stir. “Bring it here,” the man walked over with a new pair of fresh socks in his hand and sat down on the couch beside you to put them on. 

Gwi-nam slowly sat up and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Why?” He questioned. 

“Go to the night duty room and out the window, it's in the lot.”

Gwi-nam groaned, realizing what he was being asked to do and layed back in the chair with his feet resting on the coffee table. His head laid against the back of the cushion and his hand returned to resting on top of your head, lazily scratching your head with his fingertips. “No way.”

“You punk. Listen to your principal at once!” The man arrogantly ordered him but Gwi-nam just sat back up and looked at him in annoyance while he defied him. 

“I said no,” his eyes looked over at his knife just as the principal’s did too and they both reached forward for the object at the same time. The principal was quicker and grabbed onto it, holding it out in front of him awkwardly but threateningly. 

“Give me that,” Gwi-nam demanded before grabbing onto the principal’s wrist and wrestling him for it. “Give me that!”

“You punk!”

“I said to let go!” Gwi-nam raised his voice as he finally got the principal to let go and looked down at you briefly only to see you still sleeping peacefully on the chair. “Damn it,” he sighed quietly and waved the knife back and forth as he looked back at the principal who looked terrified. 

“Fine. Just get out of here.”

“Go with me.” Gwi-nam insisted but the man shook his head in rebuttal. 

“Why should I? You go.”

“Go with me to the car. It'd be nice to have a shield, anyway,” Gwi-nam told him while gesturing to the older man’s body as he explained the purpose he would be using him for. 

“What's wrong with you? Stay away!” The principal picked up a plant pot from beside him and held it above his head as if he was going to throw it. 

“My god. Look at you,” Gwi-nam degraded and rolled his eyes at how pathetic he looked. “All right, Mr. Principal. If this were a game, I'd be… happy to kill you… sir.”

“Stop! Stay away!” The older man begged after Gwi-nam took a step forward, his voice raising. “Why don’t you just take her!” He pointed down to where you were still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by the loud noises coming from above around you and Gwi-nam hosted a smile for a moment before turning back to glare at his so-called principal. 

“God, why does everything suggest that?” He took another threatening step forward. “Is it so fucking hard to see that she’s important to me? I guess everyone is just too fucking dense to see it.” The principal looked worried for his own safety and suddenly Gwi-nam had wrestled him down so he was pressed against the coffee table with his chest down. “And keep it down, would you? She may be a fucking deep sleeper but anyone would wake up with a voice annoying as yours blaring in their ears.”

Suddenly, the door burst open and a familiar face popped in. 

Cheong-san looked back and forth between the two of them, his eyes falling on the sleeping girl on the couch before training back on where Gwi-nam had the principal restrained against the table. 

“Is that the principal?” He questioned, confused.

“Get this jerk off my back!” The older man protested and begged. “Get this psychopath!”

“Shh! I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?” Gwi-nam grabbed his collar roughly to stop him from talking.

“What the hell, Gwi-nam?” Cheong-san asked the bully only to receive no answer but a demand instead. 

“Cheong-san. Come here and tie his arms. The bastard won't stay still.”

“Hey. What are you doing?” He questioned with his eyes blown wide in shock.

“Come and tie him up,” Gwi-nam tried again. 

“You're finished. Do you hear me? I'm expelling you! Untie me now!” The principal yelled only for Gwi-nam to shush him again and press his knife against his throat.

“Gwi-nam! Stop that!”

“Stop what? This fucking guy…” he stood up, pointing towards the helpless and pathetic man on the table before pointing the knife towards himself. “Tried to kill me. He said to go out and get his car!” He then switched the knife to his other hand and pointed his now knife free hand towards you. “And he tried to make me use her as a shield!” Gwi-nam leaned back down over the principal and pressed the knife onto his neck again. “You call yourself a principal.”

He suddenly got off of the principal and hid the knife behind his back as he saw Cheong-san bring out a phone from his pocket and start recording him.

“That's right. Good idea!” The principal praised Cheong-san’s quick thinking.

“I'm filming everything,” the boy explained. “Let go, or I'm gonna send this to the police immediately.”

“You little… I will kill you,” Gwi-nam threatened. 

“Just stop acting like human garbage. No one respects you just because you act tough.”

“I'm the new boss of this school,” Gwi-nam explained to him like it was obvious. “Don't you get it?”

“Don't make me laugh. You're just a fucking loser who will serve bullies for his entire life,” Cheong-san spat at him and Gwi-nam’s face fell to a much more intimidating and annoyed one. He let his arms fall from behind his back, the knife no longer hidden from the camera. 

“Yeah? Say that again,” Gwi-nam dared him but turned around after the principal had maneuvered himself off the table so he was near you, his leg pumped into yours and you stirred faintly which caused Gwi-nam to rush forward, slicing the side of the principal’s neck where he fell to the floor and bled out. 

He walked towards Cheong-san who lowered the phone down in shock after seeing what he just witnessed. “You fucking…” Cheong-san couldn’t finish his sentence because of his shock as Gwi-nam walked towards him slowly, wiping the blood from his knife into his red-stained white button up shirt. 

“So am I… still a loser? Are you with me or not? The phone,” Gwi-nam stuck his hand out as he demanded him to give him the phone with the video on it. 

“You just murder-”

“Give me the phone!”

Gwi-nam lunged forward, trying to slash at Cheong-san who narrowly avoided his attack. The two ran around each other and scuffled for a bit before Cheong-san got ahead and ran out of the room with the cell phone in his possession. The zombies in the hall followed after him and Gwi-nam ran after him before turning back to look at you where you were still sleeping. It amazed him how heavy of a sleeper you were, not waking up even after all of that chaos. He rushed forward, giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead before silently promising you he would be back, running out the door and softly closing it behind him before chasing after Cheong-san. 

Soon enough, the two ended up in the library. After seeing Cheong-san getting mauled off of the top of a bookshelf, Gwi-nam jumped on top of the bookshelf and yanked the shirt of the boy who pushed him off, successfully returning the favor and causing the zombies to lunge for the fallen boy. Gwi-nam chased after Cheong-san, both boys avoiding zombies whenever they came into near contact with them. The latter had jumped up onto a bookshelf but was stopped when a couple of zombies had tried to pull his leg down so he would fall. He managed to kick them off him and got onto the bookshelf but one followed him up. It miscalculated its jump and slammed into the light, bringing it down with it as it fell to the ground. Cheong-san had no time to breathe in relief as he saw Gwi-nam appear on top of another bookshelf and jump after him. They both scrambled after and away from each other, now crouching next to each other only separated by the gap of the two bookshelves and the zombies below. 

“Cut it out,” Cheong-san grit out while both of them breathed heavily.

“Give me the fucking phone,” Gwi-nam demanded and held out his hand, waiting impatiently. He was desperate to get back to you, desperate to just hold you again and finally be able to say what he’d been too much of a coward to for the past three years. Now might as well be the perfect time. 

“You killed the principal. You're a murderer.”

“You made me kill him, you shit!” Gwi-nam hissed. “You wanted proof I wasn't a coward.”

“You're insane.”

Gwi-nam slowly stood up, ready to fight and Cheong-san followed his lead. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before Cheong-san dashed in the other direction. Gwi-nam followed and lunged for the boy’s legs, knocking him down so he hit his head on the top of a bookshelf before falling to the floor where zombies quickly followed after and tried to take a bite of his flesh. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you asked, Cheong-san managed to get back up on a bookshelf only to find Gwi-nam already there. He kicked him in the stomach only to have ended up landing on his back with Cheong-san on top of him, trying to stop all of his attacks. The bookshelf rattled from the two’s fighting and from the zombies below trying to knock them over. 

Gwi-nam noticed the pulling the zombies had been doing to the bottom of his pant leg and screamed at them, “Get off me!”

Just as he managed to get the zombies off and stood up, Cheong-san pulled down the light above them and slammed it against Gwi-nam’s back. An act that seemed to have no effect. The boy grabbed Cheong-san and slammed him down against the bookshelf before forcing his head over the edge and making it so he was dangling above the zombies who reached up and tried to grab at his hair. 

“Should I save you?” Gwi-nam taunted. “What do you say? Beg for your life. Come on.”

“Screw you,” the other boy refused and Gwi-nam pulled his head up to punch him a few times, succeeding in knocking him out before searching his pants for the phone. 

Just as he found it and tried to search for the photos app, Cheong-san woke up again and hit the phone out of his reach, just barely managing to catch it in his other hand above the zombie horde who reached endlessly for a bit of his flesh. Gwi-nam angrily resorted to choking him to try and get him to either pass out again or to reluctantly give him the phone.

Neither of which happened.

Gwi-nam screamed and whimpered in agony as he found himself with the edge of the phone lodged in his eyes, screaming even more as he then found himself being pushed off of the bookshelf and into the void of death below. 

He fought for a way out, pushing the zombies away but only ending up to where he was laying against the top of a table and the zombies piled on top of him. He reached out for Cheong-san, now begging for his own life in an act of life’s cruel irony. “Damn it! Shit! Help me! Cheong-san! Fuck! Oh, please!” He begged and begged but Cheong-san only looked down at him before looking away, trying to plan for his escape. Gwi-nam cursed him silently, vowing to end his life and not let him get away with this.

“I'll kill you. I will kill you. Fuck you,” He cursed him in his head. “I'll…”

He stopped moving all together as his body gave in to the call of death, only leaving one last thought as he left the land of the living. 

You.

Less than an hour later, Gwi-nam awoke in the same spot on the table, confused and scared as zombies still surrounded him. He looked down and pinch lightly at where he saw a bite mark had appeared on his stomach. “Oh, shit. Did I die? Am I dead?”

Suddenly zombies came running towards him after hearing the noise. He gasped and flinched back as he prepared himself to be attacked again only for the zombie to stop short after smelling him. More followed but none attacked him. They all just turned away like there was nobody there. 

“Hey!” He experimented after the zombies turned around, looking for their next prey. They all turned back to him but turned back around after not smelling fresh meat. 

A small smirk started to cover his face as he started to realize what was happening. “Aren't you gonna eat me, you zombie bastards?”

When they all growled but made no move to attack him. He let out a confused laugh before deciding to stand up, still cautious of the zombies surrounding him. When none of them tried to go after him, the fear he harbored started to dim and he gained more confidence with every step. He walked up to where a cracked mirror was and took slow steps as the memory of Cheong-san stabbing him with the edge of the phone refilled his mind. He slowly touched his eye, wincing when it stung a tiny bit but much less than he expected it to. 

“Cheong-san, you son of a bitch! I'll kill you,” he vowed before his one good eye widened in realization. “Fuck!” 

He started panicking as he thought about you being all alone before realizing he had closed the door and you were safely inside, probably still asleep from how deep of a sleeper you were. He calmed down and walked around, finding a ONE HEART club jacket and putting it on after taking off his blood-stained white button-up. 

“What the fuck?” He sighed as he put the jacket on and zipped it up. “That means…” He paused as he looked around at the zombies who were growling and running into the walls around him. “I'm God.”

He rolled his eyes at the zombies before making his way back towards the principal’s office. He opened the door quickly and entered the room before any zombies could follow up behind him. He walked over and saw you in the same position he had left you in with your head resting on the arm rest and your legs curled up. He let out a small and quiet laugh as he walked over, making sure to be quiet as he gently lifted you from the couch and gathered you in his arms so you were sitting on his lap with your head resting against the curve of his neck. You let out a small groan of protest as your eyes fluttered open slightly. 

“Gwi-nam?” You whispered out in confusion and tried to lift your head but he just gently pushed you back into his chest which you followed without any more complaint. “Where’d you go?” You asked, your words mumbling together and he cursed himself for you waking up while he was absent. 

“I just had to deal with some things, but I’m back now.”

“You should’ve woken me up,” you scolded him lightly while wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“But then you would’ve been awake and I would’ve had to listen to your dumbass scolding me,” he teased lightly and you lightly slapped the back of his arm from where you were holding him. 

“Jerk.”

He smiled softly and leaned his head on top of your own, his cheek pressed to your crown, waiting for you to go back to sleep. He wasn’t satisfied until he heard your breathing even out once more. Lifting his head up, he looked down at you with a soft gaze as you breathed in deep breaths through your nose. Every exhale would softly blow against his neck but he didn't care. He tried to suppress his emotions but couldn’t stop the love bubbling underneath his skin and threatening to escape. He leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before leaning his head back onto yours and closing his eyes, trying to get more sleep of his own. 

“To hell with Cheong-san,” he thought to himself. “I’m never leaving you again.”

[munariplans]

Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud. 

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?” 

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness. 

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window. 

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up. 

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months. 

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours. 

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented. 

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more. 

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.” 

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it. 

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted. 

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise. 

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her. 

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. 

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk. 

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up. 

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then. 

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement. 

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled. 

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well. 

– 

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her. 

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty,  i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa. 

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing. 

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?” 

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas. 

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?” 

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that. 

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all. 

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

– 

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other. 

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else. 

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did. 

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement. 

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request. 

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world. 

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best. 

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift. 

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday. 

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle. 

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her. 

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend. 

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon. 

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears. 

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten. 

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay. 

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration. 

– 

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her. 

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then. 

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.” 

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you. 

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again. 

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you. 

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time. 

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all. 

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered. 

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday. 

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes. 

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper. 

– 

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her. 

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room. 

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you 

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s. 

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song. 

– 

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize. 

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime. 

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close. 

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later. 

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself. 

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you. 

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha. 

 the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side. 

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her. 

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her. 

– 

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you. 

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha. 

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too? 

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that. 

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first. 

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi,love ur stories 😍

I was wondering if u could do one based on 'I see the light' from tangled, where they meet at a mutual friends wedding or something, she was singing the song where she has the most melodiest voice and (charles, max or Pierre) somehow 'fall in love' at first sight of her along with her voice. Thx 😊😍

This was cute 💕 I hope you don't mind but I changed the setting a little bit.

Tangled Up In You || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singer!fem!reader Warnings: fluff, slight angst with his ex, more fluff WC: 2.2k

F1 Masterlist

Children were known to be resilient creatures that could adapt well to changes but Penelope had struggled to understand why her and her mother no longer lived with Max. It had been six months and still she asked where her ‘Maxie’ was and why he couldn’t come with them to their new home. 

So, it came as no surprise when she was asked who she wanted to invite to her 4th birthday party that Max was at the top of the list.

“...you don’t have to come, I can say you are busy-”

“No, I’ll be there, Kel,” Max interrupted as he put the call on speaker and added the event to his calendar. “Is P there? Can I talk to her?”

“Sorry, she’s with Daniil picking out her princess dress. The theme’s Disney, of course,” Kelly laughed softly before she sighed. “Are you sure you want to come, or are you just being nice?”

“I want to come. I miss our tea parties, and standing on tiny pieces of lego.”

The silence on the line lingered for a moment before she couldn’t help asking. “Do you miss me?” 

This time it was Max who sighed. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

He hung up before she could apologise again. Somehow she always turned a conversation back to their relationship, but that wasn’t something Max would ever entertain. If the man knew one thing from his life of racing it was how to move forward and when the three year relationship he had run its course he had taken time to reflect, just like those post-race debriefs, and planned to use it as a lesson learned for next time.

Kelly had overdone it as usual. 

The largest ballroom of Hôtel de Paris had been transformed into a set straight from Disney and filled with actresses dressed as Penelope’s favourites princesses. 

It was easy to spot P when Max walked in because her excited squeals were impossible to miss and he followed the sound to the front of the stage where she was jumping excitedly.

“Maxie!” she screamed, running and jumping at him trusting he would catch her.

“Happy Birthday, P,” he grinned as he lifted her up into a hug. “I can’t believe you are two years old already.”

“I’m four, silly!”

“No, that can’t be. You can’t possibly grow up that quickly.”

“I can! Have you seen my princesses? My favourite one isn’t here yet but mummy said she’s going to be here any minute.”

Max scanned the room for the princesses and saw the usual ones like Cinderella, Snow White and Aurora. “Is Rapunzel still your favourite then?”

Penelope nodded with a big toothy grin. “She’s so pretty. I want to be like her when I grow up.”

Max put her down carefully and straightened the tiara sitting on her perfectly styled hair. “You are already prettier than everyone here, P.”

“There you are,” Kelly greeted Max as she left another conversation to join them, kissing his cheeks twice just a little too close to the corners of his lips. “Just in time too. Sweetheart, look who’s here.”

Penelope screamed as she spotted Rapunzel taking the stage, a long golden braid adorned with flowers hanging all the way down her back. “It’s her, it’s really her,” P squealed as she squeezed Max’s hand. “She’s beautiful.”

Max was in a state of shock as his jaw fell slack. “She is.”

The lights of the stage dimmed until only a single spotlight cast a warm glow to her skin, the braiding of hair around her head appearing like a golden crown, or more accurately, a halo.

Max recognised the song in an instant, remembering the evenings spent on the couch watching Tangled, P dancing across the living room floor as she sang her little heart out. The memory brought a smile to his lips and it only grew wider as the angel on the stage began to sing.

You double checked the wig was held firmly by the pins and not a strand of hair was out of place before running your palms over the dress to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle on the pastel pink material. Satisfied you were ready, you hooked the small microphone and earpiece into place and nodded to the sound engineer to start the cue.

It was no difficult task to smile brightly as the music began and you twirled out onto the stage, you lived for these days. Seeing the excitement and joy your performances made the children who witnessed it brought joy to your life. Seeing their eyes widen and their jaws drop was what motivated you to channel even deeper and give your all to the act.

All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been

You spotted the birthday girl at the front of the crowd and plucked a bright flower from the braid, kneeling down to tuck it behind her ear. Her smile widened and she could hardly stand still as she trembled with excitement.

You waved a hand to the ceiling and the projector illuminated it with a thousand little glowing dots and a surprised gasp whispered across the largest crowd you had ever sung to.

Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight Now I'm here, suddenly I see Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be

You smiled at the little girl once more before spinning on your toes beneath the twinkling lights, the tulle skirt billowing around you as if you were floating away with them.

Around the room, the other casted characters were turning on their lanterns and raising them into the air on near invisible strings. You could perform this set a thousand times and never tire of seeing the crowd's reactions to the lanterns floating into the night sky.

And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new

You scanned the crowd while they were in a state of wonderment looking up, but there was one man who wasn’t. He still held the same unblinking look of awe but he could have been oblivious to the lights the way he was staring right back at you.

There was something about the look that almost knocked you off your feet as your stomach flipped and heat burned on your cheeks under the intensity. His eyes, a pale shade of blue, drew you closer to the edge of the stage and his foot lifted as if he were to follow.

And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted

His lips moved like he knew the words by heart and you nearly missed the line as your heart skipped a beat. The rest of the crowd faded away as you knelt back where you had been and pulled another flower from your hair.

All at once everything looks different Now that I see you

He leaned forward and you tucked it behind his ear, your fingers grazing his jawline as you retreated. You were so absorbed by his shy smile and the blush highlighting his cheeks you didn’t notice the woman standing to the side of him. For a moment, before you caught yourself, it was only him that you sang to and only him that you saw.

“Please, please can I?” P begged her mother to go and see Rapunzel but after the breathtaking performance she had been in a mood and withdrew her hand from her daughter’s. 

“No, your cake is going to be coming out in a moment - I need to be here to show them where to put it.”

Tears welled along the four year old’s eyes and her bottom lip trembled before Max stepped in. “How about I take her?”

He had been watching the stage entrance for any sign of movement since her song had ended and it was hard to hide the disappointment when she didn’t return for another. He could still hear her voice and was busy committing it to memory in the hopes he could use the sweet, melodic sound to calm his racing mind when he lay awake alone at night.

Max couldn’t explain how utterly obsessed he had become or how he wished he knew what delicate perfume it was he had inhaled when she touched his face. He ran his hand along his jawline, following where her fingers had been under the guise of a scratch, and he was glad he had tidied his beard up for the event.

“Of course you would offer that,” Kelly bit back, pulling him from his thoughts as his hand fell away from his face. “Whatever, do as you want.”

Penelope understood the permission but missed the sarcasm and Max sighed to himself as he took P’s hand and made their way to the curtains that hid the makeshift backstage area.

“Rapunzel!” P squealed as she rushed forward, towing Max to keep up until she barrelled into the princesses legs and wrapped her arms around them. “I love you.”

You had almost begun to pull your wig off when you heard a little girl call out. You turned just in time to catch her as she grappled you into a hug and you laughed softly as you tucked her hair back behind her ear to see the flower you had given her.

“Aren’t you the sweetest little girl,” you giggled as you knelt down to her height and took in the sight of the man who followed her, his hands tucking into his dress pants. You drowned in the eyes that had held you captivated before tearing yours away and swallowing the disappointment that had crept up your throat. “I hope you are having the most magical birthday with your father.”

The birthday girl looked up at him with a laugh. “This is my Maxie.”

You tried to hide your confusion but he obviously saw it as he scratched the back of his neck, the material of the shirt he wore straining as his biceps tensed.

“Uh, I am, was, her step-dad,” he corrected as he gave the girl a small sad smile before offering his hand to you. “It’s just Max, or you can call me Maxie too, I guess, if you want.”

You smiled in amusement as you shook his hand, the touch lingering a little longer as neither of you made an effort to pull away.

“I’m Rapunzel,” you said as your eyes darted to Penelope.

“Right,” he chuckled and let his hand fall back to his side as he looked at her too. “Your cake might be waiting for you, P. Do you want to go check?”

“Can you come?” she asked you with big round eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but Eugene has probably got himself into trouble without me, so I should really be going. But I must thank you, it was an absolute delight to celebrate your birthday with you. I love getting to spend time with a fellow princess.” You swung your braid over your shoulder and the sweet scent of the fresh flowers filled the air. “You can have as many as you like.”

It took all your concentration not to look at Max when that was what you really wanted to do, especially when he knelt beside you and helped Penelope to choose which flowers to take. His arm brushed against yours and you nearly lost your balance from the deep breath you took of his mouth watering cologne.

Eventually she was happy with the dozen bright blossoms she cradled in her arms and thanked you before rushing to take them back to her mother. “Come on, Maxie!” she called without looking back to see if he was following.

He rose with a sigh and you hissed as your head was tugged sharply by the pins. “Shit, sorry,” he murmured as he saw his watch had got caught in the braid. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, it actually happens more often than you would think.” You rubbed the back of your head where the pain was worst and double checked the birthday girl was gone. “I’m Y/N.”

He repeated it with a smile as he slipped the watch off his wrist to use both hands to untangle it from the golden threads. “Would you let me take you to dinner to apologise properly?”

If you were wearing your microphone it probably would have picked up the sound of your heart from how quickly it started pumping. There was no denying this attraction between you and you could see he was equally affected by it too.

“No, I told you it’s alright,” you started, taking his hand when his shoulder slumped crestfallen. “But, you can buy me dinner if you want to make it a date?”

A bright smile broke across his face and you couldn’t help smiling back knowing it was because of you. “Tonight?”

You nodded as you reached into the hidden pocket in the dress and passed him your phone to enter his number before he sent himself a message to get yours. “You might not recognise me without all this,” you joked as you started to pull the pins out of the wig and freed your natural hair.

He chuckled and shook his head as he found you even more beautiful than before. “There’s no mistaking those eyes, I would recognise them anywhere.”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hii can u please write an emily x reader fic where emily sees readers sh scars for the first time? and kisses them or smt? if not don’t worry :))

Of course! :) Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Tracing You

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: past self-harm, mental illness, trauma, implied sexual assault/abuse (nothing graphic though!), mentions of afab body parts, discussions of sex Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You and Emily have been dating for over a month, and you've still haven't let her get to second base. You're scared she'll see your self-harm scars and run for the hills. But, eventually, you'll have to expose them.

You knew it was coming. You always knew, and you always hated it, hated to cut everything short.

Emily was kissing you hard, passionately, as you both lounged on her couch, and you kissed her back. The movie you’d started earlier was long-forgotten. You loved kissing Emily. You could kiss her forever. You loved the way she pushed her body into yours until she was nearly on top of you, as if she physically couldn’t stand to be apart from you–even one centimeter apart. You loved the way she snuck her tongue into your mouth, somehow gentle and rough at the same time. You loved how her fingers felt against your flushed skin–cool and electric. The way she smiled into you. She gave you butterflies.

But you also knew that any minute now, she’d pull up on your shirt, as if asking for permission. You knew that her hands would sneak a little higher up on your torso, and she’d watch you to make sure you were okay. And you knew that, just like you always did, you’d gently push her hands back down, gently tug your shirt back into place, and continue kissing her like nothing had happened.

But that was the problem–nothing had happened. Nothing would happen because you couldn’t bear to let Emily see what was under your shirt. It wasn’t that you were modest, that you had a hard time with sex. What you had a hard time with were the scars that dotted your breasts like a galaxy, scars that even the best of sports bras couldn’t hide entirely. You wanted Emily and, god knows, she wanted you. But you just knew that she’d see them–see those red streaks painted across you like an oil painting of flames–and one of two things would happen.

She might see them and feel sorry for you. And you’d seen that kind of sorry before. It was the kind of sorry that swallowed relationships whole, that changed the way someone thought about you, looked at you, loved you. And you hated that. You were six years into recovery, no relapses, and you were proud of that. You wanted the people who loved you, who saw you at your most vulnerable, to know the you that you used to be, but to love the you that was now. And so often it seemed that people got stuck on the you who dragged safety pins across your skin. You weren’t her anymore. You’d worked hard not to be.

Even worse, Emily might see the scars and find you disgusting. She’d see that there had been something wrong with you, with your brain. She’d know that at some level, there was still something wrong with you. After all, your trauma, your mental illness–they hadn’t gone away. You had spent a whole lot of years in therapy and on medication to deal with them, but they were still a part of you, a part of your story. They were a part that was hard to look at. Even for you. You found those parts of yourself ugly, believed they deserved to be hidden–much like your scars. How much uglier would they be to Emily? Emily, who wasn’t in your mind, who didn’t know what had come before or during or after, and could only see what was left–the evidence that you were not okay.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Emily’s fingers slipped under your shirt, tentatively dancing up your torso. You let out a shaky sigh and grabbed her hands in yours, deepening the kiss, hoping it was enough to distract her. But it wasn’t. Not this time.

She pulled back and watched you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” you prompted, flushing and trying to act like nothing was wrong.

She bit at one of her nails as she watched you, and you pulled her hand away to hold it between both of yours.

“Are you…” She hesitated, like she didn’t quite know how to ask. “Do you want to… break up?” She looked sad, scared. And, for your part, you were sure you looked absolutely shocked.

“What!? No! No, Em, of course not!” You ran gentle fingers over her face, trying desperately to communicate that you absolutely didn’t want to break up and would, in fact, like to never, ever break up.

“You just…” She sighed, picking at her fingernails again. “I love making out with you, but you never want to go any further. And I get it if you’re not ready, that’s completely fine. It’s just… it’s been a while, and I want to make sure you’re not here because… you know, because you feel like you have to be.”

You stared at your hands. You felt like your guilt might swallow you whole. Here you’d thought you were playing it cool, but realistically, what would have been the end game? Never having sex with Emily? Never letting her see your body? You’d been in relational limbo for over a month now, and it had been stupid, so stupid, to assume there wouldn’t be any consequences. She thought you didn’t like her! She thought you weren’t as into her as she was into you! And it was exactly the opposite–you were so into her that it scared you, so into her that it was scarier than it had ever been to show your scars. The thought of losing her–already, even so early on–was terrifying.

“Emily,” you started, rubbing your thumb over her hand. “I’m here because I want to be. I really like you.”

She blinked, thinking harder. “Am I… am I doing something? You know, that makes you… not want to–”

“Oh god,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands. “No, Em. No. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. I do want to.”

You sighed and looked at her. Her head bent, hands worried. Your self-consciousness was making Emily self-conscious. And you really couldn’t bear that she’d think less of herself because of you.

“Take off my shirt,” you said, bluntly.

“What?”

“Take it off. It’s okay.”

Emily fiddled with a stray piece of upholstery on the couch. “I don’t know, Y/N, this doesn’t seem like the right mood for—”

“Emily,” you pleaded, squeezing one of her hands. You knew if you didn’t do it now, you might never. “Please.”

Emily watched you with concern, but did as you asked, slowly lifting your shirt up and over your head.

You looked up to the ceiling, exhaling shakily, willing yourself not to cry. She would see them. She was seeing it. She saw them. You didn’t know if you could ever look her in the eyes again. You didn’t even know if you could look at yourself.

You felt Emily’s hand press gently into yours, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Then you felt one of her fingers, cold for the shock of it more than the actual temperature, at the top of your breasts, the part that peeked out from the bra, littered with angry, red lines that had only somewhat faded over the years.

You felt her trace one of the scars, the whole, long trajectory of it, with her finger, and then when she reached the end, she leaned forward and planted a kiss at its zenith. Your breath caught in your throat as she continued following the scars, kissing you again and again and again until–though you’d worked so hard not to–you had stray tears leaking down the side of your face.

Emily grasped your face in her hands, so gently, so gingerly, and lowered your head, using her thumbs to brush the tears from under your eyes. You still couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Y/N, look at me,” she said softly, caressing your face. You finally forced yourself to look into her eyes, and what you saw there surprised you. It wasn’t pity and it wasn’t disgust. It was something new. Admiration and respect. And–maybe, just maybe–love?

“You’re beautiful,” she told you, staring at you pointedly, holding your face so that you couldn’t look away. “You’re beautiful, and that’s all we’re gonna say about it unless you want to talk more.”

“I feel like you should–” you said, your voice breaking a bit as you sniffled. “You should know why and– and when, and–”

“I am happy to listen to anything you want to tell me,” she assured you. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. It’s your story, and you can tell me what you want, when you want. Believe me, though,” she said, smiling mischievously. “I don’t need any more information tonight if you’re not ready.”

“Really?” you asked.

Showing the scars had been hard enough. You didn’t really want to talk about your hellish high school and college years, the man who had touched you there and made you want to rip all your skin off, the years of therapy, the relapses, the depression, the medication. You’d tell her. You’d tell her all of it, you knew. But right now, you wanted to reap the rewards of being brave. The rewards being Emily.

Emily nodded and winked at you, then leaned in to brush her lips against your ear. “Y/N,” she whispered. “The only information I needed was that you had boobs under there.”

You blushed and grinned at her, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another heated kiss.

When you pulled away, Emily was nearly panting. You smirked. “I showed you mine. It's your turn.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

hii!

i saw your list for things you enjoy writing for and omfgg languge barriers<33 those are absolutely top tier i love reading about those!! could i request a language barrier + monster au w beel? tysm and have a great day!!

ohhhhhhh thats so interesting????im gonna write an orc fit cuz i feel like that fits him so well-

(Dark content, kidnapping, noncon touching, shitty japanese cuz google translate, etcetc)

(Yandere! Orc! Beezebub x reader)

(translated sentences in the tags)

You saw the fires before you even heard the warning bells.

You'd heard the stories. Back when you were a child, crowded inside the elders cottage as you and the other children eagerly listened to the stories about the orcs. Only one of the adults had seen the warriors. Back when she was a child. Monstrous beasts, filled with nothing but anger and the taste of war.

"Will they ever come here?" One child had asked. A hushed murmur fell amongst the youth.

The elder smiled.

"No young one," she said, "they all reside in the north. No beast would travel so far."

She spoke lies, the proof only revealing itself years later.

You can hear the screams through your thin walls. Still, you continue to huddle in the corner of your home like a coward. It's too late to run. Far too late to call for help. All you can do is sit and pray to the Gods for mercy.

They'd come suddenly. Unlike anything you heard from the stories. There wasn't smoke in the distance warning their presence. It was just the distant clatter of hooves. And then chaos.

You'd been one of the lucky ones. Still in your home, bustling away when the screaming started. You'd locked your doors, bolted the windows. Even now, as you lay huddled in a ball, you knew it wouldn't be enough. You were just waiting for the inevitable.

Eventually, it came.

You were expecting something more violent. Windows being smashed. The wall torn apart. There was just a click and a squeak of your door. Heavy footsteps. Something was inside your home.

To your benefit, you don't whimper. Your breath hitches, but the beast's loud lumberings drown the noise. You can already tell that it's big. Each movement it makes causes your tiny home to rumble and shake.

You don't think. You just shove yourself under your tiny cot, trying to make as little noise as you can. You can hear your heartbeat thumping away in your chest, as you pray for it to slow down. You don't want to know if the thing in your home can hear it too.

It starts in your kitchen. You can hear it clamber away with pots and pans. The crushing of metal makes your head hurt as you imagine that being your skull. Then your furniture, a chair, thrown across the room, you can hear the wood shatter. That could be your limbs.

When it enters your bedroom. You stop breathing.

You can only see its boots. Big, nearly the size of your forearm, maybe even bigger. It muddles around your room, clumsily swiping away at the various knick-knacks and trinkets you have scattered across your room. The real horror begins when it starts to sniff the air, and you wonder if it can smell you.

You hear it's voice. Masculine, deep. He's saying words in a language you can't understand, it's foreign to your ears.

And then you're pulled from your sanctuary.

It doesn't matter how many times you've heard the story of the beasts ripping apart boulders with their bare hands, you kick and scream and collapse into sobs. The arms around your midriff don't budge. If anything they tighten, keeping you trapped with the thing you most feared.

You think you stay like that for hours. Or maybe time was slipping by, turning into sludge because your heart was going too fast and you surely thought that would kill you before the beast ever does. You squeeze your eyes shut, sobbing as you just wait for it to be over already.

Except, nothing happens. There's just this soft tapping against your cheek. He's speaking, again, that same deep tone that's strangely so soft.

"私を見て."

You want to keep your eyes shut, but perhaps, it's morbid curiosity that causes you to see who your murderer will be.

He's big, the largest man you've ever seen. He'd look human if it weren't for the textured skin, the fangs protruding from either side of his lips, the bright orange hair, the purple eyes that seemed to glow.

The most beautiful man you've ever seen. The most monstrous creature to ever exist.

He tilts his head. For a creature who is known to crush skulls and eat bones, he doesn't look very harmful. If anything, he's vulnerable. His chest is bare, only covered by shiny metal bracelets, while his bottom is covered by an animal pelt.

Yet, you stare back in terror. Looks don't mean anything. Not for beings like him.

Eventually, the orc nods, done examining you. Was he deciding you're a good enough kill? Before you can think anything further, he picks you up in his arms, effortlessly carrying you.

You've been crying and fighting and struggling for hours. All of it had tired you out. All what you can do is watch helplessly from his arms when he exits your home.

Your entire village is in shambles. Fire is everywhere. Blood is as common as water. It's horrifying. The scene haunts you even after the orc deposits your limp body on top of a horse.

Earlier he seemed rather unbothered with your struggles. Now, he gives an irritated sigh when you start to scream again. The orc wrestles your arms together, bundling them up with rope. Your mouth is muffled by a thick cloth. When you peer up at him helplessly, he gives you a stern look as if to say 'you brought this onto yourself'.

A sound of another horse's hooves is enough to remind you this orc didn't do this pillaging all by himself. Another orc saddles up to him. He's a bit smaller compared to the first one. Indigo hair with ivory tips. Despite their stark differences, their purple eyes look oddly similar to one another.

He gives your pathetic state a lookover, and then he scoffs.

Behind you, the orc that kidnapped you shrugs and says a few things. They go back and forth a bit and it sounded like they were arguing.

Eventually, there seems to be a clear victor. The orc rides off, as the first one gives a satisfied huff. When you fearfully look behind you, he just a condescending pat on your shoulder.

You think you pass out after that, because the next time you open your eyes, you're no longer on a horse.

The pelts under your skin are soft to the touch. You rise from the makeshift bed, looking at your surroundings. A large tent filled with soft furs and various trinkets.

You don't need to know who's it is.

He comes in hours later. Just as tall and terrifying when you first met him. He isn't adorned in weapons anymore. You cower nonetheless.

You curl inwards when he kneels in front of you. Even sitting down, he's humongous. His clawed hands unfurl, and he presents something to you.

You don't know what it is, but you know it's food.

You don't take it, suspicious. He seems to realize this as he takes a bite, before extending it back to you. Still, you refuse.

You can't figure out his endgame, yet. He hasn't kill you, does that mean he's waiting for the right moment? Is he planning on fattening you up before he eats you? You wished you could speak his language. Any answer is better than his silent torment.

After a while, he shrugs, muttering something, before gently placing it back on the plate. He still isn't done with you.

He points to himself.

"Beelzebub," he says. He repeats the motion a few more times before you understand that he's saying his name.

When he points to you, you shy away, refusing to answer. He doesn't seem angry at that, giving a thoughtful hum. You watch warily as Beelzebub pulls away, his interest falling to other things within the tent. Sharper things. He picks up a long knife, studying the blade.

You swallow, and then you decide to leave.

You'd barely begun to take a step before Beelzebub turns to look at you. He huffs, before pointing at the piles of furs. You don't need to know what he said. You stay put.

He puts the knife down, thankfully. He picks some other things, moving them around the tent mindlessly. At least he isn't looking at you. You think you'd go into hysterics if he just sat there, staring and staring and staring.

He's waiting for something. Someone.

Pretty soon, that person walks through the tent.

Not as large as Beelzebub, but big enough to terrify you. This orc had black hair. His red eyes racked over your figure, scrutinizing you with mild disgust.

Beelzebub greets him with a grunt. The newcomer sighs before going off in a foreign language. Beelzebub answers with a stagnant face. Another argument. You have a feeling both were about you.

Clearly, the orcs did not want you here. Then why did he bring you here? At that, relatively unharmed? What was the point of all of this?

Or perhaps the other orcs didn't understand their member's thought process either.

Eventually, Beelzebub shakes his head. He points at you.

"彼女は私の妻になります," he says.

The other orc frowns, but he doesn't respond. Beelzebub must have won. He just gives you another glance, before making his way back out the tent.

Beelzebub gives a satisfied grunt. You stiffen when he drops down to sit right in front of you.

He doesn't do anything. He just sits. He stares right at you. In response you press yourself against the tent walls, but there's no where to hide.

He reaches out to touch your cheek. You shudder.

"私の妻." When he smiles, his dangerous fangs poke out. "私のものだけ."

[witchthewriter]

(𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧) 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬/𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

Warnings: Mentions of Davy Jones’ locker, death, violence and piracy (yay!)

a/n: message me/comment if you want to be tagged in any of my posts x 

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

🌿ENTP 🍁Ravenclaw 📜Chaotic Good 🔮Gemini Sun, Aquarius Moon, Sagittarius Rising  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:  

How’s It Gonna End by Tom Waits

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

・It wasn’t easy being with Jack, then again, it wouldn’t have been easy being with you either - 

・Over the years you had gotten into a flow - knowing each other’s quirks, your wants and desires; vices and virtues. 

・When other people are around you - that’s when it isn’t easy. Because all they see is two people on a whole other planet - you have inside jokes, lingo, a way of communicating that others can’t comprehend quick enough

・And when Jack gets attention from others ... you have to admit, you do get a little jealous. Okay, a lot jealous. 

・Especially when he’s around women, he can’t help but flirt back. And it’s taken a while for him to learn to cut it out

・Captain Jack Sparrow has always been known for his extravagance, his over-the-top nature. And you’re known for your chaos, your unruly nature; and of  course your clumsiness. 

・But somehow your clumsiness is always connected to luck. Knocking something over will somehow lead to a distraction where you’re able to escape later on. 

・You found each other in your youth. Constantly rescuing each other by chance - destiny always found a way for you to run into each other 

・The stories you could tell! 

・The amount of times you’ve pulled each other from the brink are countless

・Where one went, the other was always soon to follow

・You have no idea how many times you both faced the gallows

・They didn’t seem all that frightening now 

・You loved the Black Pearl just as much as Jack. You saw her as your freedom.

・When Jack was pulled from your world into Davy Jones’ locker, you went straight in there with him. 

・The Kraken was the easy part. The time spent in that godforsaken desert was hell. Literal hell. 

・Unluckily, you didn’t end up in the same place. 

・Davy knew Jack would be fine if you were with him, so he separated the both of you. 

・And in the time frame, Jack had inched closer to insanity - not having you by his side made his mind plunge into instability 

・You thought it was fun ... at first (insanity was/is second nature to you.)

・But Davy had more tricks up his sleeve, ones that he somehow knew would get to you

・Then little crabs started appearing. 

     “Aw rocks.” You said out loud, moving to lay down and gaze at the perfectly rounded sphere.

“Oh, not rocks. Rocks with legs-”

・And when they moved, you followed 

・ “Y/N! Y/N ARE YOU REAL? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ‘ERE?” Jack bellowed from the moving Black Pearl

     “YOU JUMPED, I JUMPED.” 

“Oh yes, Kraken. I remember now, he was a slimey smelly big thing wasn’t he-”

・You found your way on deck and Jack swooped you into his arms. He held you close against him, holding one hand on the back of your head. 

・Now others think it weird, but Jack likes to smell you. So when you were nuzzled in his arms, he did exactly that

・ When you found everyone on the beach, you nearly ran to Tia Dalma. She’s been a close friend throughout the years. 

・You didn’t feel any resentment towards Elizabeth. Holding onto grudges didn’t make sense in your line of work. 

・And you kept her secret. 

・The relationship with you and Jack means you share a lot of the same enemies. 

・Barbossa, the man who marooned the two of you on separate islands, had come back to save you from Davy Jones Locker. It made you laugh. You actually audibly laughed when you saw him

・Although you did like Jack the monkey

・Will was ... less than enthused to see you

・Only because he thought you were bat sh*t crazy

・But Elizabeth could only blush - she didn’t look you in the eye until a week later

・You were present during the meeting of the Bretheren Court. And were incredibly excited to see Jack’s father again. 

・Back in the day he and yourself hit it off nearly instantly. He thought you would have made a brilliant Pirate Lord, if only you weren’t so clumsy

・To Jack’s disbelief you wanted a war with the East India Trading Company

    “They’ve taken too much from us, Jack.”

・Yet again, destiny had spared you. The fight with Davy Jones and Beckett had caused many casualties, but neither you or Jack had been hurt

・You were able to sail away... until Gibbs had fallen asleep and the Pearl was stolen yet again

・Jack has mastered how to patch you up; cuts, burns, bullet wounds etc. In another life, he would have made a great healer. And when you brought how talented he is with remedies and such, he said: “Love, I’m only good at this because I’m looking after you. I couldn’t care about anyone else.” 

・Jack likes listening to you read out loud. But most of the time you get bored of the story and start making things up, while still holding the book so Jack has no idea what the real plot of the story is ... 

・Many might think you two have a treasure cove of riches. But really you just have a small tockens of each other on your persons

・He has a trinket that you found many years ago in his hair, twisted around a dreadlock

・You wear a ring of his. He gave it to you as a sign of his affection and love. A little like a promise ring

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Drama Queen (Jack) x Drama Queen x3 (You)

Chaotic Dumbass Duo

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (You say to Jack) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (Jack replies to You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

You’re His Lucky Charm

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖:  

Love, Pet, Sweetheart, Sunshine. 

Jack likes to make nicknames up on the spot as well, especially when he wants to cheer you up. He’ll string two random words together and they may not even be sweet - but the way he says it ... he can make anything sound sensual. 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

Words of Affirmation, Physical Touch and Gift Giving

Jack is big on words. But what really gets to him is when you compliment him - when the words are coming from you, they mean something. People might think Jack is a touchy feely guy; but he’s really not. He’s calculating with how he touches you - moving hair behind your ear, being the big spoon, dancing with you. His favourite love language is gift giving both giving and receiving. He absolutely ADORES presents. Especially all things sparkly. 

Tagged: @sardonic-the-writer, @roguesknights.

[silassinclair]

hiiii💙💙💙

i just have a request about Maddox but i want to start with saying english is not my first language and secondly i LOVE your writings, they are sooo good like i just read them again and again and again......

so about my request, its like a story but i just hope you will understand what im trying say

So darling and him while running away from the law Maddox face some other outlaws or having a duel he gets shot, some bad wounds or whatever and darling has no choice but runaway. Before running away darling says that she loves him and will wait for him, something like that.

After two years darling and Maddox meet again (can be when he is leaving a saloon or when he is stealong from the people on the road who is just moving from town to another town) Darling doing really great, she has a small but cute house, she has a great job paying her greatly BUT darling carrying a child

BIG SUPRISE its his child

Yes!

When darling was runing away she was pregnant but didnt tell him cuz she was afraid of his reaction

Anyway him and darling talk about what happened after she runaway, how she manages to live, about the child

so the thing is how he will react about all of this, i mean he has a child and a cute house he can live with darling but he has to run from the laws. Would he somehow live with darling or will he take darling and his child with him and keep runing

I know its long but i tried so hard to make it short and i hope you undertand it AND if you want you can ignore it

💙🤍 I LOVE YOU 💙🤍

UWWAAHH THIS IS SO CUTE <3 I’m about to cook so hard with this one ya’ll aren’t ready 🥶

Masterlist Here!!

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Long Lost Lover Reader

CW// Pregnancy, Gun Violence, Blood, Suicide Mention, Maddox kills pedophiles, Pedophilic comments

“Shhh! Just stop! Stop talking!” Y/n wept as her s/c hand put pressure over Maddox’s oozing bullet wound. Her skin was stained with his crimson blood. The whole world was collapsing down on her. Maddox, her husband, was dying. He was losing so much blood and those damn bounty hunters were getting closer.

Coming to this town was a mistake. It was a fucking trap and they walked right into it. It was a false rumor spread to lure Maddox to the bank. It was supposed to be unguarded; and instead of cash and gold in the vault there was a lethal group of bounty hunters unloading their bullets in a barrage right at Maddox.

The masked outlaw coughed, hacking up some blood. Y/n and Maddox were lucky to get away. Using all her strength she pulled his body into a neighboring saloon and hid with him behind the bar. The outlaw's tearing brown eyes looked into Y/n’s with a mixture of emotion. Adoration and despair. Because he knew this will be the last time will ever see her again.

“Sweetheart, princess please look at me..” He utters. Y/n can barely hear him over the gunshots and screams from around. But her ears are honed to only listen to his voice at the moment. He is all she sees and hears.

“Untie my bandana… Use it to pack the wound.” The paling man says.

Her eyes widen at his request. Her and Maddox have been in so many life or death situations. All of them they have escaped narrowly. Maddox has had mortal wounds, he’s bled countless times over the years. But never, never has he taken that bandana off. Even when they kissed he would tell her to shut her eyes and she would obey, respecting his privacy. When they made love the lights would be off or she would be blindfolded. His face was a mystery that she always wanted to solve.

She imagined the say he showed her his face they would be watching a sunset. Or maybe laying underneath the star in a romantic setting. But now… It’s different. She doesn't want to see him. Not now, not like this. He was dying and this was a desperate attempt to extend his life. This was the end.

“Maddox…” Y/n sniffles. Her vision blurs as tears cascade down her cheeks. She knows this is the end for them. She can feel it.

The woman’s hands go behind his head as she shakily unties the burgundy bandana. And when she takes it off what she sees has her crying even harder.

He’s gorgeous. This is the face of her husband.

“Why Maddox? Why does the first time I have to see you also have to be the last?” Her voice cracks as she stuffs the wound with the bandana.

He smiles and for the first time she can see it. His cracked lips, stubble of facial hair, his crooked nose from being broken so many times, and the scar above his top lip.

“I love ya’ Y/n.” Is all he says in reply. His hand comes up to cradle her cheek. “I need you to do one last thing for me..” He takes her hands in his one hand as the other holds the cloth to his wound.

“Anything… I’ll do anything for you.”

“Run far away baby… Run away from here and don’t look back. Don’t come back for me.” Maddox peeks over top the bar counter they’re and sees the bounty hunters about to enter the saloon they’re hiding in.

Y/n bites her lip as she shakes her head back and forth. “I’m not leaving you! I can’t! You can’t die, I need you! You’re..”

Y/n freezes. She wants to say it but she can’t. Not now, not when he’s going to die.

“You’re going to be a Father.”

“Y/n.” Maddox smiles. “Jasper should be outside. Get on him and get outta this town.” He brings his lips to her hand, kissing her blood stained skin.

The sobbing woman can’t bring herself to move away from him. If she leaves she will never see him again. But she has to leave, she has to survive and save their baby. It’s what he would want.

“I love you.” Y/n pulls him into a passionate kiss. One which he returns as he tries not to wince in pain.

Maddox is the first to pull away for the first time. And it only breaks her heart even more.

“Now go princess… Go live ya’ life to the fullest. And I’m… I’m sorry for killin’ your old man back then…”

Y/n stands up silently and nods. So after a full year he finally apologizes. Honestly, Y/n forgave him long ago. Was it Stockholm syndrome? Was it love? It didn't matter, her love for Maddox was true. But now he was dying... If she turns around and faces him now she’ll never want to leave.

Without facing him she lets her tears fall and hands form fists, “Goodbye Maddox. And I forgave you long ago. Back when I fell in love with you for the first time.”

She runs to the back of the saloon and leaves out the back entrance. Once the woman is outside she hears shouts from inside, along with gunfire.

“NOOO!” She screams and clenches her hair in her fists. Her vocal cords strain from her guttural scream. The pain of losing Maddox feels unbearable. She can’t feel her legs, so she drops to the dirt ground. All she can do is cry and curl up alone. The trotting sound of a horse is heard from above. Looking up she sees Jasper, Maddox’s loyal horse and best friend.

“Jasper…” She weeps. The horse looks down at his owners lover with sympathy behind his dark eyes. The animal can tell she’s in pain. He neighs and uses his nose to nudge her.

“L-Let’s go bud.” Y/n says and stands up from the ground. She gets on Jasper’s saddle and rides out of town, leaving behind the painful memories of losing Maddox. The ring on her finger has never felt so heavy.

"I help! Rosie help Mommy!" A small two year old girl says as her chubby little hands reach out towards Y/n who is carrying a pail of milk.

Y/n Graves; widow and single Mother, smiles down at her daughter. When she lost the love of her life she gave birth to a new meaning to go on. When Maddox died Y/n felt alone. She contemplated ending the pain permanently but she knew she could never do that to him and their baby. So she lived, and thank the lord she did.

The past two years were hard. Being pregnant, working a job, finding a place to live, and raising a newborn all by herself. Life was hard but that's just how it is. Being a Mother is a sacrifice that Y/n took the day she decided to keep on living after Maddox's death.

Now she has a beautiful baby girl. And her resemblance to him brought tears to the Mother's eyes.

She has his dark brown hair that almost looks black and his brown eyes that Y/n would find herself lost in. At the young age of two and a half Rosie even knew how to speak and understand English. She has her Mother's smarts and her Daddy's looks.

Rosie was a gift from Maddox, a parting gift so she wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Just thinking about how she almost killed herself and Rosie destroyed Y/n. The thoughts she had during those dark times were regrettable. She hates herself for possibly thinking such things.

"Mommy? Why sad?"

Y/n blinks a few times and doesn't even realize she was crying. Rosie tugs on her Mother's dress, big brown doe eyes creased with worry. Giggling, she wipes her tears and puts the heavy pail down. She reaches for her daughter and picks her up and holds her instead.

"Because you look just like your Daddy princess. You remind me of him and I miss him a lot." Y/n kisses Rosie's cheeks, making the little girl squeal and kick her little legs.

"Now let's finish up our chores yeah? We need to get this milk to a cool place." Y/n reaches down and grabs the pail to take it to the cellar.

"I carry it Mommy!" Rosie pouts and reaches her arms towards the pail in Y/n's hand. But the woman only laughs softly at her daughter's antics.

"It's too heavy for you baby. Besides, princesses don't do chores like this yet. Rosie's only job for now is too behave and listen to Mommy."

The little girl pauses and leans her head on her Mother's shoulder. "Okay.." She mumbles.

Sensing her daughter's sadness Y/n decides to compromise. "How about we go into town and get ice cream?"

In an instant the little girl perks up. "Really?!" She says in her baby accent; unable to pronounce the 'R' well and instead it coming out more as a 'W'.

"Yes princess. You've been good all this week so you deserve a treat."

Y/n finishes her work in the cellar with the help of her daughter. Who really was just following her around and pointing at stuff, asking what each thing was. But now that everything was done Y/n rode into town on Jasper and her daughter on her lap.

It wasn't often that the single Mother came into town. Every time she was there she could feel the stares on her and her daughter when she did bring her. And she knew why. She has a daughter yet no husband. Y/n knows what the townspeople say behind her back. Calling her a whore, trollop, and an ex prostitute. But nobody knew jack shit about her. They were all making assumptions. They didn't know her life and the pain she's been through.

Not only that but being in town just felt unsafe. The hungry stares of the men made her feel nauseous, which was why she always carried a double barrel shot gun on her back. It was her own way of silently saying "Don't fuck with me and my daughter."

Y/n tugs on the reins a little and Jasper stops in front of the ice cream parlor. She gets off of Jasper and little Rosie clings to her Mother's back as she fastens the reins to the wooden pole.

"We won't be long bud. Come on princess, let's go."

Y/n pets Jasper on the head before holding her daughters hand and taking her into the parlor. Once inside the conversation around them immediately dies down as all the patron's eyes are on Y/n and her daughter; who goes to hide behind her Mother's leg.

"Why staring Mommy?" The little girl asks. Y/n pats her hair and answers back with a reassuring smile.

"They just think your dress is pretty and can't help but look at it."

Rosie grins and giggles, her cheeks pinkening with blush.

"Now let's go get ice cream yeah? What flavor do you want?"

"Strawberry!"

Since we're in town I may as well grab a few things so I won't have to come back. After finishing our ice cream I take Rosie with me to the hardware store across the street. While in there I grab a few things from the shelves. Life shot gun shells, a new steel file, and soap.

I go up to the clerk and put my things on the counter. The old man looks at me with his usual unimpressed look, just like how any other person in this miserable town looks at me.

"Will this be all?" He asks. I nod silently and hand him the appropriate amount of cash. After bagging my things he hands me my change and I grab the paper bag.

"Come on Rosie, let's go." I say and look down by my side at Rosie. But instead of my daughter I see the hardwood floor. My heart drops to my feet.

"Rosie?" I say again and perk up, looking around the store and down the aisles. Briskly walking to the store clerk I place my things back on the counter.

"Can you watch my bag? I need to find my daughter."

The old man nods with a grunt and opens up a newspaper. I ignore his careless attitude and I practically search the whole store for Rosie. Where the hell did she go? She was right next to me! I took my eyes off her for one second and this is what happens to me? I'm a horrible Mother.

Running outside the store I approach the first person I see. A blonde woman with a green dress and matching lace parasol.

"Excuse me? Have you seen my daughter? She's about this tall and has dark brown hair. She's also wearing a white dress." My words pour out of my mouth so fast that even I can barely understand what I'm saying. But the woman only shrugs.

"I do not know. Maybe you should keep a better eye on your child and you never would have lost her."

I glare at the prissy bitch and shoulder check her as I strut past her to ask the next person if they have seen Rosie.

"I can already see the potential in her Davis. Look at those beady little eyes. She'll be beggin' to suck cock in no time."

Rosie is shaking in fear, the poor girl has no idea what's going on. One minute she was in the hardware store looking at shiny things on the shelf, the next a hand was clamped over her mouth and she was being dragged outside the back entrance. She tried to scream but the hand over her mouth was too big. She tried to fight but her body was too small and weak.

There are three men standing above her. What they are talking about? She doesn't know. But her Mother taught her that strangers were dangerous. So their intentions were bad; these men were bad news. They had her tied up and gagged, her shivering body laid curled up on the ground as she silently sniffled.

"We'll take her to Alabama. She'll go for a hefty price there. I know a guy who likes em' younger." One of the men says. The same man hacks up mucus and spits in out on the ground right next to Rosie. Making the girl whine and cry even more.

"Quit your fuckin' cryin' or I oughta' give ya' somethin' to cry bout'" The scrawniest man of the group says. But his loud voice only makes the two year old cry more.

"Fucking hell, people will hear if she keeps this shit up. Someone hit her in the back of the head an' knock her lights out."

"She looks no older than two Marty. That'll kill her you dumb oaf!"

"Then wha do we do?"

The three men bicker back and forth. Arguing about how to silence the little girl. But as the three criminals argue they don't hear the approach of footsteps. It isn't until the girl stops crying that they turn around. A man with his faced covered by a bandana has Rosie in his arms. His brown cowboy hat is tilted low, casting a dark shadow over his eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?! Put her down!" The biggest man of the trio says. He reaches for his gun but the mysterious man tuts and wags his gloved index finger back and forth at the criminal.

"I wouldn't do that if I were ya' big guy." The man holding Rosie says in his smooth, accented southern drawl. The little girl is scared stiff as she clings to the man holding her. She doesn't know what it is about this stranger but he makes her feel safe unlike the three men who made her cry.

"Don't tell us what to do. There's three of us and one of you, we oughta fill you full of lead and piss on your corpse for thinkin' you can FUCK with us!" The scrawny man draws his gun and aims it right at the masked man's head.

Rosie cries and hides her face in the stranger's neck. He rubs her back and reassures her with a gentle coo.

"You'll be okay, just trust me alright? I'll get ya back to ya Momma and Poppa."

Rosie doesn't understand what he said, but she does understand that this stranger is protecting her.

"Keep your eyes closed honey, can you do that for me?"

Rosie shuts her eyes and holds onto him tighter. Beneath his dirty red bandana the man smiles. Then he looks back at the three scum bags in front of him. He heard everything they said about the girl. All of the disgusting things about how she had "potential" and wanting to sell her.

Men like them didn't deserve to live.

"Hand over the brat you fuck-"

The masked man draws his silver revolver in the blink of an eye and cocks back the hammer. He shoots the scrawny man right between the eyes. Rosie cries out at the loud burst of gunfire but he shushes her gently as he cocks back the hammer another two times and shoots the other two men dead before they can even draw their guns or speak. The three bodies lay stark still on the ground. The life from their eyes is gone as blood pools from each of their heads.

"Burn in hell ya' nasty bastards." The mystery man walks away from the scene to go somewhere safer, the little girl still in his arms. She has her hands over her ears because of how loud the three gunshots were. But with a pat on her head from the man she lowers her hands and looks up at him.

"It's over honey. Those bad men won't touch ya' ever again." He says and sits against a tree a little bit outside of town. The little girl sits crisscross applesauce on his lap. Her chubby little hands rest on her thighs as she stares at him.

The man reaches behind her head and unties the rag around her face. Those men treated her like livestock. If not worse. Abducting a little girl and tying her up like cattle? How disgusting. Men like that didn't deserve to see the light of day.

"What's your name little girl?" He asks her. Rosie sniffles and rubs her puffy eyes.

"R-Rosie.." She stutters, still shocked from the whole ordeal.

"Hey now, no need to be scared anymore okay? I won't harm a hair on your head. And your name is really pretty. Matches ya' rosy lil cheeks." He pinches her plush cheek, making the girl smile.

"Name?" Rosie says and pokes the man's chest with a little finger.

"Maddox. Maddox Graves."

Rosie only nods. Maddox can still tell she's scared. So he asks her some questions to get her mind off things.

"How old are you?"

"Two and half."

"You got a family?"

"I have Mommy!"

"Got a Daddy?"

"Mommy said Daddy in heaven."

Maddox sighs when the girl says she doesn't have a Father. Growing up Maddox didn't have a Father figure either. He only had his Mother who worked tooth and nail to provide for him when he was younger. It was a shame she died of tuberculosis. He was only 16 when she passed. And after her death he was born a new man. When his Mother died so did Manuel Gonsalez. And he was reborn Maddox Graves, the west's most feared gunslinger and outlaw.

"My Daddy's in heaven too Rosie. But my Daddy was a bad man, he had it comin' to him."

Rosie looks at Maddox with a sympathetic expression. Though she couldn't see his face she could see his eyes under the shadow of his hat. He seemed... hurt.

"Married?" Rosie asks him. She sees his eyes crease. He's smiling.

"Yeah, to the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Where she?"

"I don't know honey. I'm looking for her. I hope I find her.."

Maddox stiffles a gasp when the little girl suddenly hugs him. Her little arms go around his neck. It's been years since he was last shown any affection. the last person to give him a hug was Y/n. This little girl just had no idea how much her warm embrace meant to the man. He hugs her back and shuts his eyes, letting his years long guard down. Maddox parts from the hug and pats Rosie's head.

Maddox goes to ask the girl another question but the feeling of a cold hard object on the back of his head makes him pause. The outlaw doesn't flinch at the familiar feeling of a barrel of a gun being pressed against his head.

"You have three seconds to get your filthy hands off my little girl." Y/n growls out, her finger on the trigger of her double barrel shotgun. But Maddox feels his heart skip a beat when he hears the little girl's Mother's voice. How badly he wants to turn around and confirm his suspicion. But the slightest movement on his behalf may result in his brains being splattered onto the grass.

"Mommy!" Rosie squeals and jumps off Maddox's lap, making him wheeze and cradle his gut.

Rosie runs to Y/n and hugs her leg. Tears form in the eyes of the distressed Mother. She drops her gun and falls to her knees to embrace her daughter in return, completely forgetting about the man.

"Oh princess you had me worried sick! What happened?! Who is this man? Did he hurt you?"

Rosie shakes her head back in forth and parts from the hug. "He saved me Mommy! From bad men!"

Y/n feels her heart squeeze in pain. She couldn't even protect her own daughter, let alone keep an eye on her. Instead a stranger had to save her. Speaking of the stranger, Y/n looks up and sees the man standing above her and her daughter. They make eye contact and the man's brown eyes widen as Y/n's lips part. Something about him is familiar.

"Thank you for-"

"Princess?" He says in utter disbelief.

Y/n feels her words get caught in her throat at the oh so familiar pet name. Only one man has ever called her that.

"Maddox?"

The outlaw removes his bandana. A scar, stubble, and crooked nose. The same face Y/n saw before she ran out of that saloon years ago. He drops to his knees and pulls his wife into a tight embrace. His long search for his wife has finally come to an end.

"My wife, my beautiful beautiful wife. Mmm I was searching every end of the country for you. I thought you were gone forever." Maddox buries his face into her neck and inhales her familiar lavender scent. Even her skin has the same softness it had years ago.

Y/n though, is silent. She doesn't return the embrace her long lost husband gives her. Her mind and heart are racing. It's like she's witnessing a paranormal encounter with a ghost. If this is a trick then it is a cruel one. That wound should have killed him. But no, he survived and came back to her. After about three years he returns looking more alive than ever.

"I thought you died..." Y/n utters softly. Her eyes are wide with shock as tears form from her tear ducts. Hesitantly, she hugs him back. Arms moving slowly up his back she rests her hands on the blades of his shoulders and sinks her body into his. The two are like snakes, their bodies constricting and melting into each others warmth.

"I got you sweetheart, I got you. Just let it out princess. Everything's gonna be okay." Maddox soothingly coos and rubs her back as her tears finally fall. A shrill cry leaves the depths of Y/n's soul. Her hands grip the fabric of his jacket. She's afraid if she let's go he'll die again.

But no. He never died. He survived, and he's here in her arms. All her sacrifices have led her to this moment. In the end, living was worth it.

"Mommy?"

Y/n blinks the tears from her eyes and looks to her daughter who stands there with the hem of her dress in her tiny fists. The little girl looks like she wants to cry too.

"Why crying?" She asks in a wobblily tone. Y/n smiles and pulls her daughter in with her and Maddox's embrace.

"Mommy's just happy that Daddy came back from heaven."

Rosie's brown eyes light up with wonder. The man who saved her is her Father? She opens her arms as wide as she can and hugs Maddox with all her two year old might. However Maddox is frozen.

"She's... she's mine?" He whispers.

Y/n nods. "Mhm... I had her eight months after I ran out of that saloon. She's about to turn three."

Maddox's jaw is on the floor. Not only has he found his wife but he has a little girl too? His heart hurts at the thought of Y/n going through the pain of pregnancy and childbirth all alone. The outlaw looks down at the little girl. And he looks to Y/n for silent permission and she nods with a light chuckle.

"She's your daughter, you can hug her silly."

And with that the Father hugs his little girl close to his chest. He doesn't even know that he's crying right now. And he doesn't care, all he cares about are his two girls right in front of him. Nothing matters anymore except for this. He isn't going to run anymore, he's tired of running. Running is what made him lose everything in the first place. Running is how he lost Y/n. And he never wants to lose his wife again. Especially not when he has a daughter too.

It's time to settle down and raise his family. Maddox never considered having a family before, let alone no longer being an active criminal. But for Y/n? He'd walk on glass through the depths of hell.

"I'm never leaving you alone ever again, you hear me?" He says in a firm tone to Y/n, his eyes piercing into her own. "We're gonna be a family. No more running baby, I promise."

He pulls his wife in by the back of her neck and kisses her passionately. This moment was one he would photograph into his memory; his daughter in his arms and his lips on his wife's.

Being a Father was NOT something Maddox thought he would ever be. Hell, he’s Maddox fucking Graves, the most threatening man in the west. A guy like him raising a kid? Yeah it’s unimaginable.

He’ll never admit it but fatherhood scares him. And nothing scares him (well except for losing Y/n again.) because he’s just that damn tough! Or so he thought.

Rosie is a little bundle of joy. She’s smart, funny, and damn fast. Too fast.

How did Y/n raise her all on her own!? It’s like the girl wants to die or something because why is she always getting into shit!?

“Rose! Get ya’ little mitts out of the knife drawer!”

“Hey! Jesus Christ kid you’re gonna kill yourself if you get too close to the edge of that cliff!”

“You’re giving Daddy a heart attack sweet pea. I just got ya, ya can’t leave me yet.”

Y/n has been through so much so he never asks her for help when it comes to little Rosie. He can figure it all out on his own no problem. Maddox is a man so he’s the tough guy of the house. There isn’t anything Y/n can do that he can’t do.

However…

“Y/n! Rosie done gone and crapped herself!”

Loves kissing Rosie’s cheeks. They’re so chubby! Maddox is so happy that his little girl is healthy and happy.

Rosie may have his looks but she has her Mommy’s smile and attitude. It’s adorable.

Now back to Maddox and Y/n…

They’ve been separated for nearly three years. So their relationship dynamic has changed a little bit.

No more lone wolf outlaw Maddox. No, he’s putty in his wife’s hand. Meanwhile Y/n has grown more independent over the years having raised Rosie and gotten a job all by herself.

Maddox needs her by his side 24/7. He’ll get grumpy at the idea of her leaving. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past either. Just the thought of Y/n not being within his vicinity makes him worry.

“I gotta go into town and grab some food.”

“Huh? Why’s that? We gotta garden princess! Whatchu need food from there for when we have all that we need here?”

Don’t think for a second that Maddox isn’t a yandere anymore just because he’s a girl Dad now. Nope, nada, zilch.

He won’t hesitate to kill anyone who poses as a threat to his family.

Maddox was crazy for Y/n before but now he’s outright insane. He’s just really good at hiding it. And he’s also insanely over protective of Rosie.

“I was thinking, maybe we can send Rosie to the school house when she turns th-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not? She needs an education Maddox.”

“I will not have my daughter be around those nasty town boys. No way in fuckin’ hell is that happening. We’ll home school her.”

“Aww you’re so cute when you’re protective!”

In the end Maddox ended up enrolling Rosie into school later on because he had no idea how to explain Mathematics to her.

MAN this was a long one. Sorry for any grammar mistakes, my phone buggy as hell 😩

[ang3lofdivinity]

🎐⋅˚₊‧𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾’𝗌 𝖠𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖾‧₊˚⋅🐚

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso!fem!reader

Genre :: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Format :: Story

Warnings :: More Arcane season 2 act 3 spoilers! Some implications of SH (reader), a bit more trauma, happy ending, the gods kinda suck, HOMOSEXUALS FINALLY GET TOGETHER!!/hj, kinda inspired by Jorge’s cut song from Epic “Appetite” along with “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again”, Reader gets better at the end here, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - more so takes her place, possibly suggestive at the end?

A/N :: AHHHH I cannot believe I wrote THIS much that I had to make a new part entirely. But nonetheless, happy holidays everyone! I hope everyone stays safe this year and gets some good stuff nevertheless of what you’re celebrating! (Side note: ..Should I turn this into a series with more parts? I’m gonna hold a poll for when the time comes — which will be right after I post this). I hope this lives up to your expectations everyone!! + HAPPY NEW YEARS!! (W.C: 10.6k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

Jinx does not remember how long it has been since you’ve left. And you can say the same.

You’ve only been hiding away for as long as you possibly could without the bluette finding you before she left you, just like all the others. See, this is why you shouldn’t allow your emotions to gain control over you! They’ll take the things you love the most as you’re left there to cry and mourn over their loss. And this time? You actually allowed yourself to fall for their tricks!! You’re so STUPID, aren’t you? You should’ve known that this would’ve never been able to last.

She is a lost mortal, and you are an imprisoned goddess.

And the ones pulling the strings?

The gods above. For they hold more power over the both of you than you could possibly know. Or do they?

You lay down, cured up into yourself as you cry against the forest floor, everything around disappearing. (At least it felt like it, as you had begun to focus on the fact that you were crying for so long, your throat going sore and your eyes getting all red and puffy).

It’s pathetic of you really, all of this is pathetic.

You should’ve never allowed yourself to grow attached, you should’ve never allowed yourself to open up to Jinx, you should’ve KNEW that this was doomed to happen one day! Nothing can ever go right for you, can it now?

‘So whats the next course of action’, you ask yourself.

To wallow in your sorrow for a bit longer. To allow yourself to bawl your eyes out as Jinx is taken from you.

.

Time has become useless as Jinx stands at the edge of the beach, breathing heavily, her fists clenching and unclenching as she grits her teeth.

Does she always have to mess things up?

Does she always have to be the Jinx?

In the wake of your disappearance, she feels something staring at her.

Upon turning around however, she sees..

Some kind of ball of pure light??

It’s almost blinding as she stares at it, the luminosity making it almost impossible to define the shape of the object. Covering her eyes with an arm while groaning, she speaks up.

“Hello?”

“You’ve had your fun, mortal.” A voice booms, distant yet close, vibrating through the air. Though it doesn’t exactly feel like one singular voice, it feels more like.. thousands. Thousands of voices as they echo and vibrate. Its presence feels heavy, suffocating. As if she’s being strangled.

And as they speak, she knows what this is.

“Your presence here has disrupted the balance. She was meant to suffer, to repent. Not to cling to you.”

Jinx glares, lowering her arm to stare at the thing.

“Balance? Suffering? You’re the ones screwing her up, not me.”

“This is not your concern. Leave this place and let her fate proceed as it was written.” The tone of the voices grows sharper, as if she was going to listen to them.

“Over my dead body.” Jinx spits the words like venom.

The form twists in agitation, and the faint sound of crackling can be heard.

“You defy orders from the gods?”

“Damn right I do.” She huffs as she narrows her eyes at the form before her, nails now digging into the flesh of her palms.

“She’s not your pawn anymore. And if you try to keep me from her, I’ll blow this paradise of yours sky-high! I’ve got enough bombs to make that little heaven of yours look like rubble.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence that lingers after her words are spoke, but shortly after - the form slowly turns smaller and less bright, making Jinx thankful.

“Very well,” they finally relent, voice hollow.

“But know this, mortal: your bond with her cannot last. You will only bring her more pain.”

“And you cannot deny our orders forever. We have more power than you possibly imagine.”

With that, the light travels off elsewhere, leaving Jinx alone once more on the empty shore.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking, the forest endlessly stretching all around you, the grass brushing against your feet as you continue to walk. The crashing of waves still manages to fill your ears, but it is still not able to keep drowning out the chaotic storm of your own thoughts.

It hurts. All of this hurts.

It shouldn’t, but it does anyway.

Leaving her was the only way, you tell yourself. If she stayed, she would forever hate you - wouldn’t she? There was no chance for either of you, ever. There never truly was.

She is a mortal meandering around without the knowledge that lies in the powers of those she barely knows of.

You drag yourself further away from her and deeper into the forest. You stop momentarily, your chest rising and falling with labored breaths, the tears on your cheeks now cold from the salty air from moments before.

Your mind races with images of Jinx from those very moments, however: her wild eyes, her expression as she looked up at you, the way she’d yelled after you, that vulnerability of hers for just a moment.

You kneel on the grassy floor, clutching your head, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotions crashing through you. Your tears drip into the blades of grass below, disappearing instantly, as if the island itself were swallowing your grief.

You try to focus on your resolve—to forget her, to let her go.

But it feels like trying to breathe underwater: suffocating and unnatural.

You take a moment before allowing yourself to fall on your side on the islands grassy floor, tears falling one after the other. The mist seems to grow denser ahead, swirling in unnatural patterns even as you lay on your side. Eventually, you find yourself squinting, unsure if your mind is playing tricks on you or if something, or someone, is moving within it.

Before you can decide, you hear it: a low hum, resonating in your chest like the strum of a string on a rather angelic instrument. The sound is faint, but it pulls at you, compelling you to rise. Against your better judgment, you lift yourself up by your elbows, staring at the mist as it.. contorts into something.

You should turn back, shouldn’t you?

But you don’t.

A soft, distant voice cuts through the silence surrounding you, faint and trembling, as though carried by the wind. At first, you can’t make out the words, but as you lean closer, they grow clearer:

“She’ll come for you.”

The voice isn’t Jinx’s, but it echoes with the same determination, the same desperation. Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head with a bitter laugh, trying to push the voice away, but it clings to you like a shadow.

“No,” you whisper to yourself.

“She can’t. She won’t.”

But the voice is unrelenting, whispering again and again until it drowns out your thoughts entirely:

“She’ll come for you. She always will.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and slowly, you find yourself laying back down on your side, fluttering your eyes closed as you try to make yourself think of something else — ANYTHING ELSE besides this.

And suddenly, your mind wanders the meeting you had last night:

The evening air hung heavy with a solemn stillness, the kind that pressed against your chest and made every breath feel like a burden.

Nevertheless, you sat alone on the cliff’s edge, the ocean sprawling endlessly before you, its waves gently lapping at the rocks far below. The twilight sky melted into soft hues of lavender and rose, but the beauty of the scene was lost on you. It did not matter, you know. You… you really are a monster, you didn’t deserve to enjoy such beautiful moments.

Your hands trembled as they clutched your knees. Your thoughts churned endlessly, circling back to Jinx—her words, her defiance, and the way she just STARED at you after she’d slapped you.

And just as you were thinking of the incident, the faintest whisper of wind brushed past you, some sort of.. odd feeling of a being you couldn’t describe. However, you didn’t need to turn to know who it was; the soothing hum of magic and the faint scent of jasmine told you everything.

“Janna,” you murmured, your voice soft and weary.

The goddess finally stepped into view, her ethereal form seeming to shimmer like sunlight caught in the folds of silk. Her translucent blue robes flowed as though stirred by an unseen breeze. She truly did look like a goddess in this form, much better than some of her others.

“Dear goddess,” Janna spoke, her voice a gentle melody carried by the wind.

“I’ve come to speak with you about the mortal.”

Your chest IMMEDIATELY tightened, your fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes.

“You mean Jinx?..” you whispered, barely audible.

Janna’s gaze softened as she stepped closer to you. Even with her calming presence, you still had the worst feeling pooling within your stomach as you continued to avert your gaze from her.

“Her presence here has caused… ripples. The other gods are restless. They believe her defiance threatens the balance of this island, and of you.”

You shook your head, sighing.

“She’s not a threat. She—she cares about me. She’s just…” Your voice faltered as you tried to explain, to defend Jinx, but the weight of your own guilt dragged the words down.

“She is bold and unyielding,” Janna interrupted gently, her tone neither condemning nor approving.

“And that is why the gods have decided she must leave. For the sake of the island. For your sake.”

Your heart dropped at those words.

“No,” you said, almost instinctively, your voice trembling.

“She doesn’t have to leave. I can handle this. I—I can fix this—”

“(____).” Janna’s voice was soft yet firm before she let out a soft sigh. She knelt beside you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“This isn’t about blame. It’s about what is best for you. For her.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at Janna, your lips trembling.

“I mean.. she already hates me,” you whispered.

“She’ll never forgive me if I send her away, though.”

Janna’s expression remained calm, her gaze filled with an ancient understanding.

“Perhaps. But she will live. And so will you.”

Your hands fell limp at her sides, your gaze dropping to the ground. The weight of Janna’s words settled over her like a storm cloud brewing at the distance of the horizon. And as you thought of the way her sharp edges had softened just for you. And yet…

And yet, your mind returns to your failures, your mistakes.

“I’ve done terrible things,” You whispered, your voice barely audible once again.

“Hurt people. Hurt her. She deserves better than this.” You swallowed hard, closing your eyes against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“Maybe… maybe the gods are right. Maybe she should leave. It’s for the best.”

Janna’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, as though searching for the truth in your words. Finally, the goddess rose from beside you, hands folded behind her back.

“The choice is yours, Dear Goddess. But know this: love is not something the gods take lightly. What you share with her is rare… precious. Do not cast it aside without understanding the weight of what you will lose.”

With that, Janna turned and began to fade into the soft hues of the twilight, her presence dispersing like mist on the wind.

You remained seated, your shoulders hunched as silent tears traced paths down your cheeks.

Jinx would be better off far from her, far from the island and its burdens, wouldn’t she?

And yet, as the stars began to dot the sky above, a small voice within you whispered that she was breaking something she could never truly repair.

A warm liquid trickles down your cheek.

As you reach up, you realize it's a tear.

Ah, you didn’t even realize it.

You let out a small bitter laugh, falling back down on your side before your shifted, now looking up at the midnight sky above you.

So beautiful..

But beauty cannot erase the pain that all of these actions have caused.

And so, now you find yourself slipping in and out of consciousness - eyes fluttering every once in a while.

It takes you a while, but slumber finally finds you, and you have one of the most terrible nights of rest ever.

Days, or maybe even weeks, pass in silence on the island once more much to Jinx’s displeasure. You’ve both done this so many times, it’s gotten annoying. But she cannot find you anywhere she looks as desperate as she tries, though remains stubbornly on the island, refusing to give up on you. To waste the time, she spends hours tinkering with gadgets or staring out at the ocean, muttering curses at the gods under her breath.

Then one evening, as the sun bleeds crimson into the horizon, you finally return. You’re quiet and pale, all of your happiness dulled, as though the island itself has leeched off of your energy.

And Jinx doesn’t waste a second upon seeing you enter the walk closer to her near the shore.

“Trinket.” She stands up, heart pounding as she approaches cautiously.

You avert your gaze from her, taking a shaky deep breath.

“You should’ve left.”

“Not gonna happen.” Jinx steps closer, her voice softening.

“You’re not alone anymore. I told you I’m not leaving.”

You shake your head, tears already welling in your eyes.

“Why do you keep fighting for me? I’m broken. I’ve ruined everything. Besides, if you stay here.. you’ll never be able to see the outside world again!”

Jinx stops just inches from her and cups your cheek—this time, her touch is gentle, her fingers lingering where they’d once struck you.

“You’re not broken, Angel. You’re just scared. Same as me.”

You look up, startled by the tenderness in Jinx’s voice.

“I said things I didn’t mean. I know messed up.” Jinx’s voice catches, something you might’ve not noticed if you weren’t paying so much attention to each of her words.

“But you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I’m not some lost cause, that I'm worth fighting for. So if you think I’m giving that up- giving you up? You’re dumber than you look.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you laugh faintly, a small smile gracing your lips.

“You always have a way with words, Pixie, don’t you?” Jinx grins at the small comment before chuckling herself.

“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and let me fix this.”

You hesitate for a moment before falling into Jinx’s arms. For the first time in what feels like centuries, you let yourself believe, just a little, that you’re not alone anymore.

Jinx holds you impossibly close, feeling the weight of your trembling shoulders against her own. For a long moment, neither of you speak. The quiet is only broken by the rhythm of the waves against the shore nearby.

The last light of the sun bathes the two of you in hues of gold and crimson, as if the world itself were holding its breath for you both.

Jinx pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. She wipes away the tear on your cheek with her thumb, her hand lingering there for a second longer than necessary.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, trinket.” Her voice is quieter now, lacking its usual sharp edges that she spoke so casually with usually.

“You can try to push me away, yell at me, slap me if you want, but I’m staying here. Because I want to. Because you… mean something to me.”

Your lips part as though to say something, but no words come out. Your heart feels as though it’s caught in your throat, something warm pooling within your chest as you stare at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jinx murmurs with a faint, nervous grin.

“Like I’m saying something stupid..”

You shake your head quickly, your hands gripping the front of Jinx’s top, as though afraid to let go - that if you did, she’d disappear.

“You’re not. You’re… you’re really not.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Jinx’s grin falters as she leans closer, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt.

“I don’t care what the gods say. I don’t care about whatever twisted plans they have for you. You’re mine, Angel. And I…” She hesitates for the first time, the words heavy on her tongue. She’s scared.

But..

“I love you.”

You freeze, your breath hitching while your eyes widen at the bluette’s words.

Jinx laughs nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

“There. I said it. Now you can—”

“You love me?” You cut her off, your voice wavering as you say each syllable. Your expression is something more akin to joy.

Genuine and authentic joy.

Something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in so long.

Jinx smirks faintly at you.

“Yeah, I do. And don’t you dare make me say it again.”

You laugh through your tears, and you quickly cup Jinx’s face with both hands. And this time? Your touch is soft, steady, and filled with the tenderness as the words the woman before you had just spoken.

“You’re not the only one who’s afraid,” you admit, your own voice shaking. But neither of you seem to mind.

“Jinx… I love you too. I think I always have. From the moment you washed ashore, even with how weird that sounds.”

Jinx blinks, her breath catching at the words before her lips curl into a soft, genuine smile.

“Well, would you look at that? Guess we’re both messed up, huh?”

“I guess so.” You take a deep breath, grinning with delight.

Jinx chuckles softly as your hands slide to her shoulders, pulling her closer. Neither of you hesitates this time. And your lips meet in a kiss. It’s soft and tender, something you wish could last forever. The ocean wind seems to still for the moments as you both are too immersed within the kiss, hell— it feels like everything has just stopped entirely, and that it’s just the both of you here.

When you both finally pull back, Jinx grins, her forehead resting against your own.

“Took us long enough, didn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter how long it took. You’re here now.” You replied, gently booping her nose as you smile wider.

and she gets an.. idea.

“One more, then? I think my appetite has grown for more than just some food tonight.” Jinx smirks, pulling you closer to her by your hips

You find yourself giggling before you nod, capturing her lips in a kiss once more.

The gods watch in silence from their unseen perch, all coalesced together as they stare down at you both.

Who would’ve known that sheer love for one another could foil their plans?

“I think they’re quite cute together!” One exclaims, before quickly being nudged by another god

“Still. She’s meant to suffer, not find LOVE!” The god yelps, hands on their hips.

“What do we even do?” Another asks with a soft tone, fidgeting with their fingers.

Silence overpowers the perch before whispers begin to spread from all around, gods talking amongst themselves of what to do before one raises a hand, causing all of the ones around them immediately silence, listening to what the figure had to say.

“We sit and watch for now. If anything needs to happen, however..” They pause for a mere second before continuing.

“We’ll be sure to take care of it.”

Calypso!Reader and Jinx masterlist

[a-spes]

This Dream Is Not Feeling Sweet. A part of the "Devious Lies" series — Alternative Ending. (2,315 words).

| SUMMARY — Alternative ending in which Reader died, because the og ending was apparently not sad enough for some you lmao.

" And your story may have ended in a messy way, with blood, and tears, and words that will never be spoken, but the woman realized that she wouldn't have it any other way, cherishing every moment you had shared together. "

| TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Death (R), heavy angst with no comfort (and I think that's all?)

| SERIES MASTERLIST & MAIN MASTERLIST.

It was not raining, and yet the woman could feel droplets trickling down her skin. Unstoppable ones, that always came back, even after she had wiped them for what may be the tenth time.

But Natasha is firm, and she says she does not crying, refusing the comfort that some of her mates were trying to provide.

She doesn't need it.

Or, more exactly, she knew they couldn't give her the comfort she was craving, their gentleness being nothing more than a painful reminder of the things she had lost.

Their soft words could never be as significant as yours, and their embrace as reassuring.

She doesn't need it, she repeats, over, and over again, in her head but it is not enough to make the words more true.

Long ago, she was taught that pain only makes her stronger, and yet she has never felt so in pain, and so weak, at the same time.

Get up, a voice was whispering in the back of her mind, but her body felt so heavy than even breathing became an impossible task.

These words, along side with the belief that emotions, and love, were weaknesses, were engraved in her being. It is an indelible mark she had never really rid herself of, a ghost from her past that sometimes still haunted the woman.

Ever since she was a kid, the redhead had danced with Death. She taunted It, played its sick games, but she never folded, and never a tear rolled down her cheek, never a cry shook her body.

Even when she became one of her henchwoman, taking more lives than she could ever count, painting her ledger with so much scarlet that she might never be able to get rid of it. Even when she had lost some of the people she considered as her friends.

Her visage has always been marked by indifference, Death never being as painful as it was right now.

Today, as she was standing in front of your grave, she could felt every barrier she had ever built shattering, to weak to prevent the tears from flowing.

She had tried to stop them, the woman bitting her trembling lips until she draws blood, but no amount of pretending could ever be enough to stop the feelings that were hitting her. These were comparable to an unstoppable, and huge, wave that was about to take everything away in its path.

But things were different this time.

You taught her that love may be a weakness, but that it could also be the greatest thing. One that makes it worth living. You taught her how to be vulnerable, even thought she was frightened by the idea of trusting someone.

Because you are the one who taught her that some risks were worth being taken.

And your story may have ended in a messy way, with blood, and tears, and words that will never be spoken, but the woman realized that she wouldn't have it any other way, cherishing every moment you had shared together.

Two years went by since you left, and yet it is as if you were never really gone as the woman was constantly thinking about you — How could she not? You were in every night she has spent starring at the ceiling, in every corner of the compound, her memories of you being permanent reminder of the things she has lost.

Or, more exactly, of the things she has ruined because she was too scared to admit the truth.

The woman had looked at those pictures so many times that they were engraved in her mind, hauting her when she closed her eyes. She held into these as the reminder of the things you have done, as the evidence that she was right for the way she treated you.

Yet, deep down, she knew.

The women has always knew that something wasn't right with those, that it doesn't sound like something you would ever do — But don't we say that we never really know the people we are living with?

She had been so angry when she learned about what happened that it clouded her jugdment, and when the hatred of the first days eventually washed out, it was only to be replaced by somethong more vicious — Denial.

The thought that you were better without her, that she would've ended up hurting you anyway, eventually crept inside her. But the woman knows now that it was only an excuse, and a pitful one, to not admit her mistakes, to not face her fears. It is an old habit of hers that she went back to at the first difficulties — Running away.

She was scared, and as lost as when you met for the first time, and thought that, if she left first, if it was her decision, then maybe the situation would hurt less.

A false impression of doing the right thing, encouraged by the others, led her to think that everything was right.

Yet, she knew it wasn't true.

All these nights, when she had to listen to them sharing their hatred about you as if this mistake was the only think you have ever done in your life, and all these days, when she had to walk on the streets, reading the articles that were spreading lies about the person you were, as if this one mistake could erase the hero you once were, she knew that things weren't right.

Yet, her lips remained shut, and as time went by, it only became harder to speak out, the silence being oddly comfortable despite the price it came with. She should have spoken up, and at least try to defend you, but the woman never found the courage to do so.

Despite the soft promises, she had let you down, and that more times than she is willing to admit.

The woman had loose herself in her flaws, acting selfishly, and this is a crime she would never forgive herself for comitting. Especially because she had no explanation for her attitude, or at least none that would be more than an excuse for her cowardice.

She choose to act as if you have never existed, because she thought that it would make things easier, because that is what she does when her life becomes complicated — She runs away, and bury her emotions deep in her heart with the hope they won't resurface.

But if she thought that it would be easier to turn her back on you completely, the woman eventually realized that she was wrong, and that hiding didn't make any of it more bearable. The regrets she had buried deep inside of her, the ones she had hidden under a thick layer of anger and hatred, eventually resurfaced to hit her twice as hard as before once she realized that she was not hating you as much as she thought she was.

The truth is that her whole soul was longing for your presence, and she was angry at herself for that. The woman would have gave up everything she has only to see your smile one more time, to regain the comfort of your embrace.

But the realization came too late.

Two years went by since you left. Two years during which she preferred the comfort of ignorance instead of taking the decision to pursue you, ruining her own oppurtunity for a second chance.

Natasha could never forget the moment you left, and for ever this time — How could she, when felt you slipping through her arms, and your body becoming limp in her grasp. When she saw your eyes closing, only to never open again. When she noticed the way your lips stopped trembling, and your chest stopped rising.

She heard it, your last shaky breath before a heavy silence settled in, but she still refused to admit you were gone.

The woman had screamed, this day. She had begged deities that she doesn't even believe in, and pray anyone that could hear her pleas to give you back. But despite her cries, your body remained cold against her chest, and no amount of tears will ever be enough to bring back someone from the deads.

Death can't be changed, it is for ever.

Yet, some days, it was like you were never gone. From your favorite dish in the fridge to your favorite movie on television, everything was then a painful reminder of your absence. She could see your smile in the sun's rays, and hear your soft voice in the night, and as every corner of the city was associated with a memory of you, it was impossible for the woman to escape your ghost.

You were everywhere, hauting her life every minute, and especially her thoughts. She had replayed the events thousands of time in her mind, imagining all the things she could have done for your story to end diffirently. She had thought about all the things she should have said but kept for herself, all the times she wasn't brave enough to do the right thing.

You wouldn't be dead if she had listened to you, that day.

You wouldn't be dead if she didn't decide to be selfish, and to choose to save herself over yours.

She vowed to protect you, swore to always be by your side, promised under the stars that she would never stop loving you, but she eventually broke every of her words.

She should have been here, by your side, and not only in your last moment, but also the years that came before. She thought the situation was unfair to her, being deceived by the woman she loved, but she was so far from the truth. But, when the reality of the events has eventually been revealed, it was already too late.

A part of her died that day

A part of her that she will never be able to get back, the best of her, the hero she used to be — If she couldn't save you, what was the point? Why continuing when she couldn't save the only live that really mattered?

Slowly, the woman pulled away from the team. At first, she requested only a break of a few weeks, and it was granted to her without a question. Everyone knew she was affected by the events, but none of them could have guessed that it would led her to never come back — How could she?

She wasn't feeling like a hero anymore.

The desire to do good had been drowned out by anger and hatred, and if she was blaming herself, she was also blaming every of her coworkers. She was angry at Fury who kept sending you on dangerous missions despite your state, at Clint who convinced her to rest, and at the rest team who lost the only track they had of you.

The woman was sure that if you didn't go on that mission, if she had been with them, or if they hadn't fail to find you a few hours earlier, then you would still be here. Maybe not by her side, but at least alive.

Your funerals were held in secrecy. You didn't have much family anyway, and so only the team has been here. Not a word was exchanged during the ceremony, and no one dared to give speech.

What could they have said, anyway?

She could've explained what a beautiful soul you were, how she had loved you, and how the world should be grateful for your services, but it felt wrong, especially after all the things she had done.

It is when you were still alive that you needed to be loved.

And now that you were gone it was too late to repare the damages that she had caused to your heart, and reputation.

Despite her attempts to make the truth known, the world wasn't willing to listen, and the hatred that raised after the original events couldn't be undone, and even thought you died as a hero, no one is ever going to treat you as one.

The beast is dead, along with some other harmul words has been written on your tomb. When the rumors about your death eventually spread, some found your grave, but their intentions were everything but pure. The sight of your beautiful grave being damaged made the woman angry, because she couldn't stand the way they kept disrupting your slumber, as if you hadn't suffered enough in the last years of your life.

The world should have remained thankful for the things you've done for them, instead of hating you at the first occasion. If she had her reasons for the way she acted, they didn't.

She came regurarly, almost every day, to clean your tombstone, making sure that the flowers never wither. They are probably going to be stolen soon, by someone that thinks they deserve them more than you do, but it is not enough to convince her to stop.

Under her breath, the woman is whispering sweet words that she can only hope you will here from where you are. It is all the words that she couldn't bring herself to tell you when she should have, when it wasn't already too late. It is all the excuses and regrets she had never been courageous enough to share, and all the "I love you" that were stuck in her mind.

It is all the things that she couldn't gather the courage to say, at least not before you were already gone, unable to hear them. If words could heal hearts, they couldn't reverse death, and it is a lesson the woman learned too late.

[jaidens]

imagine bradley falling in love w mavs daughter 🤭🤭🤭 or like them growing up together and js being like hs sweethearts and stuff idk but like JUST IMAGINE 🤭🤭🤭🤭

I was seven and you were nine looked at you like the stars that shine

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader

warning [s] : mentions of : goose

a/n [s] : requests are open! dal loves herself a bradshaw

Bradley Bradshaw had known the Mitchells since he was still wobbling when he walked. Pete was practically a father figure after Goose passed away. His daughter was like a sister to him, which led to him taking comfort within her. Bradley was known for being her sidekick in elementary school, middle school, and highschool.

In elementary school, it was all fun and games. Bradley and you had a willow tree together that Bradley would hang from the branches while you did your homework. That was always the difference between him and you. The sporty, athleticism in Bradley while you chose the approach to reading and staying quiet.

Bradley brought out a different side in you. He made your head fuzzy and the butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He was your first crush when you were seven-years old. On the playground, he punched the hell out of Lucas Dillinger after he pushed you off of the swing set.

Then, in middle school, filled with hormones and acne you still had a major crush on Bradley Bradshaw, the lead player of the San Diego Middle School baseball team. Most girls in your middle school had a crush on him, and it ended up in him distancing himself from you. It made sense in your head. Bradley was popular and you were on the opposite spectrum of popularity. The longing stares across tables didn't make sense however, as Bradley pushes the wet broccoli on his plate while staring at you.

Highschool is where it started. When Bradley leaped up enough courage to ask you to the Homecoming dance with a poster board and your favorite flowers. The dumb smile he had on his face pulled you away from the embarrassment you had in the math hallway that day.

He picked you up in his suit and tie, and went silent whenever you walked down the stairs. His hair was pushed back slightly and he walked over to you, handing you the bouquet to you and hugging you tightly. “You look... amazing.”

Bradley Bradshaw was in love with Maverick’s daughter. That's what he knows when he sees you in his bomber jacket, a helmet, and some pretty boots as you rev up Mav’s motorcycle. You were both 18; dumb and in love as you start driving down the flight ramp on your dad's bike.

Bradley didn't have the heart to tell you he was leaving the next week.

That night you and him laid on the cold concrete and stared at the open sky. The light pollution was almost barely there, exposing all of the constellations and stars that twinkled. Bradley knew you as the quiet girl who read Junie B. Jones while everyone else played free tag. Now, you were the girl who was out of braces with pretty teeth and pretty everything.

He says your name quietly. You turn your head and see those soft hazel eyes looking into yours, as he swallows the anxious feeling in his throat. “Can I ask you something?” You nod towards him and he shakes his head and says,

“Can I kiss you?”

Those dumb feelings you had arise fuller in your head. A hand on his chest, a turn of your hips, and you connect your lips with his. The soft feeling of him apologizes for anything he had ever done to you in the distant past.

“Yes. Anytime you can kiss me.” You laugh and Bradley runs his hand across your cheek and smooths his thumb against it.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look? It's the only one I got?”

—

“Mommy! Momma! Did Daddy really ask you out with a poster?!” Your girls blabber questions and you quiet them down with a laugh.

“Sh. Shh.. you can ask Daddy about that tomorrow. Get to bed girls.” You tell them when you walk out and then the light off. Bradley stands in the hallway with a smile.

“That story always gets you baby.” Bradley says before you pull him into a deep kiss with a tug of his collar. “Shut up.”

[shelbgrey]

Hi! alright? could you do a fanfic where the reader (or y/n) is Emmett and Rosalie's adopted daughter and they just LOVE the fact that she's a redhead? they love her freckles all over her cheeks and fiery red hair, not only them, but the entire Cullen family, they love it!! And maybe one imagines where someone at school admires her for her fiery hair and vampires don't like it! Idk ❤️.

Forever now(Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale)

Paring: Daughter!Reader X Emmett Cullen x Rosalie Hale.

Summary: normally when a child in need crosses the path of the Cullens carlisle is always willing to find a spot in his family for them but when a small red-head crosses their path its Rosalie's turn to start the family she's always wanted.

A/n: I love this request so much. I love purness in it and I'm excited to write my first Twilight request.

A/n #2: request are currently closed so I can work on my Emmett Cullen series.

MasterList

The little girl with firey hair story starts a little while back. The little girl was no less than two when she we welcomed into the Cullen family. The little girl's mother had died while giving birth to her and her father was unfit to take care of her.

The soul residents of small town in Alaska became concerned for the red-head child which led her in the hands of the chief of police. This was Beyond the cop's knowledge, so of course he called Carlisle Cullen who was head of the hospital he worked at the time. He had brought the small red-head girl to the hospital and Carlisle was in aw as the small girl stared at him with big doe eyes, almost too shy for her own good.

Carlisle knelt down to her hight and offered his hand. He smiled softly as the little girl approached him carefully. She was clueless to the situation but she knew she could trust the blonde doctor with gold eyes.

Alice had a vision of the red-head girl with freckles but the version she saw, Carlisle and Esme adopted her. Alice's visions had never been so wrong...

Not even the 300 year old vampire could explain what happened that day. As the little girl wondered around the bright house she curiously walked up to Emmett. He was setting in the living room playing video games when the small girl poked his knee a mumbled a small word...

“giant”

It was the first time they heard her talk and they were not disappointed. Emmett chuckled at the smell girl as she hugged on his giant leg. She didn't shy away from him. She did the same with Rosalie.

The family have never seen her this happy. She had gotten home from late from a shopping trip that same night and she was in love as soon as she saw the little girl's fuzzy red hair and beautiful freckles setting on Emmett's lap.

“who's this?” she smiled. The little girl waved at Rosalie and had a big cheesey smile. Rose loved every part of the little girl. In her eyes she's was perfect, from her red hair to her freckles.

The little girl stayed for about a week before the family made the decision of what would the future would be. As that week passed Rosalie grew more and More attached. She would always make sure she ate well and would do her hair everyday. Just like a mother would.

As for Emmett he was slightly afraid to be around the small human. With his bone crushing strength and everything else that came with being a vampire he would never forgive himself if he hurt her.

Of course that didn't stop the little girl. She would giggle and follow him around where ever he went. If he was working on his jeep she would laugh and crawl under it with him. If he was playing video games she would crawl into his lap begging him to read her a story.

All that two year old understood was, this was her home and the people around her was family. She was so young her brain told her Emmett and Rosalie was Mommy and Daddy. Which led Rosalie to life aultering decision after that one single word that fell out of Little red's mouth.

'mama'

Edward nor Jasper could even put into words how happy she was. When she heard that she was glowing with happiness as she held the little girl.

“mama loves you darling” she mumbled. After that the family knew she had a home there and they also knew Rosalie would fight tooth and nail for that little girl.

That night Rosalie layed on the couch as the little girl slept soundly in her arms. Emmett quietly joined her with a huge grien. “okay” he simply replied.

“okay?” she chuckled not really catching on.

“she's ours Rose” his smile only got bigger as he watched his mate hold the little girl with nothing but pure happiness.

“your mommy and daddy love you so much little y/n” Rosalie said kissing her sleeping head.

And that's how the little girl with red hair and freckles became y/n Hale-Cullen. The little girl brought so much joy into the family and each family member ment so much too her.

Emmett and Rosalie of course were #1 in her eyes but as she made herself comfortable in the family she also made meaningful relationships.

She was a listener and an observer so she quickly caught on that carlisle and Esme were her parents 'parents'. She would often call carlisle, Car or pops. When she was little she couldn't properly say his name which lead to Car and pops. Carlisle became close with the small child as well, he loved her personality and loved it when she'd ask about being a doctor. Then Esme. Y/n grew close with Esme immediately, if she wasn't with rose then she was with Esme.

Her Aunts and Uncles were the same. She'd never say it out loud but Jasper was her favorite uncle. Jasper would say y/n was the only thing pure in his life, but that was true for all of them.

Then there's the who vampire thing. Y/n wasn't stupid and of course she wanted to know why mom and dad never ate gold fish crackers like she did and she wanted to know why when ever she had a bad dreams mom and dad weren't in bed asleep when she ran in for comfort.

She was about six years old when she found out. She knew she had to keep it a secret and she was very good at it. This also led to Rosalie's fear of her becoming a vampire. Of course she wanted her daughter to be around Forever, but her heart broke eveytime she thought about the opportunities that would be tooken away from her. Which is why she's now 16 and looked the same age as her uncle Edward.

Y/n would never say it out loud but she was sick of it. She wanted to be like her family and it was hard for her grow up while everyone else in her family remained the same ages. She wanted her mom's gold eyes and her father's strength... She just wanted to feel normal in what she felt was a normal family but here she was, now 16 going to High school with her parents and her Aunts and Uncles.

Just livin' the dream...

--------( ....... )--------

So far Forks was y/n favorite palce to live. She's been just about everywhere, that came with being a Cullen. But something about this town was special to her. But the down fall was all the curious eyes. She didn't like the attention her family received. She hated how people would watch them... She hated how people watched her and that made her have second thoughts about the thing everyone loved about her.

She's was going through a 'phase' at least Emmett and Rosalie hoped it was. Her phase was she didn't like how her hair looked, no matter how many times Rosalie or Esme would tell her how beautiful she was. But no matter what she did with it everyone still seemed to be in aw about it.

Especially the boys at Forks High...

As I said before she hated how people watched her. Her beautiful hair is the reason why people watched her. She started to resent it no matter how many different ways Rosalie or Alice styled it or how many times Carlisle would say how beautiful it was. She just hated the attention. She hated the attention the high school boys gave her.

“Hey, y/n” Mike Newton said one day as she was leaving her English class.

Y/n wasn't a socializing type, hell she was shy. She would just mumbled a small hello with a smile. Mike continued to walk with her and eye her up and down.

“your hair is pretty today” Mike smiled. It was a nice thing to say, yes but as he said it y/n passed her uncle Jasper.

“Hey I was wondering if-”

Jasper slammed his locker shut in anger as he felt impure feelings the teen felt for his niece. In Mike's defense he truly liked her but he would never be her type. Jasper took on the role of the big brother he played at school and walked up to the two.

“hi y/n” he said glaring at Mike. Y/n rolled her eyes as milk gulped.

Jasper continued to walk down the hallway with the two as he intimidated Mike. Y/n sighed and looked down in embarrassment but at the same time thankfull it wasn't her father. Emmett would have made it ten times worse.

“Hey Mike, weren't you gonna say something?” y/n asked softly as they walked to their next class with Jasper.

He shrugged. “I honestly don't remember” he said staying silent in fear of what Jasper would do. They then walked passed Alice and Rosalie in the hallway he recoiled even further as he felt Rosalie's percing eyes. Rose didn't say anything though, she knew her daughter was safe with Jasper. She also knew Emmett would have a cow if he found out.

Despite the angry eyes of the Cullen family, Mike couldn't stop looking at her beautiful red hair. He loved the way the curls perfectly framed her face and bounced as she moved gracefully. But you just don't look at y/n Cullen like that. No matter if you have good intentions or not.

So Mike failed and so did a handful of others at school. Jasper of course kept it a secret like y/n asked but his mind would wonder and if it wondered to that one faithful day Edward would find out. And Edward refused to lie to Emmett or Rosalie when it came y/n.

This would lead to Emmett putting the fear of God in Mike dispite his daughter's pleas. Yes she found him annoying but the kindness Esme and Carlisle had tougher made her fear for Mike.

Tyler was the only one who was close to even getting a date with her. She actually liked him at one point but then he moved away. But after that y/n stopped showing interest in the boys of her school. She stopped even if they still loved her and her red hair.

Those human boys never mattered to her. There was no possible future due to her life style and family. They especially stopped mattering after she found her mate Benjamin...

The first thing Benjamin noticed about her was her freckled covered cheeks as she smile. He couldn't help but smile with her. He was in love with her firey red hair and couldn't stop staring at how it perfectly layed on her shoulders or how it reminded him of the sunsets at his home.

All the things she grew tired of because of the boys at Forks High, she grew to love because of Benjamin's genuine compliments and love he had for the things that made her stand out.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.1

masterlist

ellie williams x fem! reader (ur kind of a girly girl in this one sorry)

summary: you’re one of the luckiest people in the world as one of the few families that managed to gain entrance to the most exclusive safezone on earth. after living 19 years of your life in a soft and forgiving world, a lab accident sends you across the country to jackson, wyoming, entirely unprepared and unaware of what awaits you in the real world. its a good thing u run into a hot lesbian wink wink nudge nudge

a/n: now listen now hear me out i know this plot sounds kooky asf and im sorry i literally thought this shit up in a covid fever dream. but anyway i basically blacked out at the keyboard and have about 6k words to show for this weekend and no completed hw. i can’t believe im writing. this im so sorry

warnings: ellie is mean asf at first, reader is clueless and cannot do a pushup, you’re also a little bit of a snob and have a fixation on etiquette.  i promise it gets better just bear w me lMAO. she/her pronouns for the reader, v vanilla violence and explicit language. kinda enemies to lovers vibe

im so sorry u guys idk what got into me this is the goofiest au i’ve ever written ok but i just want ellie to get to learn abt the stars and shit after all she’s been thru she deserves it ok enjoy part 2 coming whenever i finish it.

wc: 6k

It wasn’t that you didn’t know that something bad had happened to the rest of the world. You did. Of course you did. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to not realize that there was maybe something else going on when no one was allowed outside of the walls and anyone who returned told hushed stories of decimated buildings and piles of corpses.

It was just difficult to grasp the idea of the world you knew no longer existing outside the bounds of the city. To anyone before the pandemic, you’re sure that you lead what seemed like a normal life for any privileged kid.

You had two parents, both of whom loved you very much. You went to an elementary school, then a middle school, and then eventually high school and university. You went shopping with your friends. You watched movies and ate shitty junk food and had first kisses and went on ice cream dates. You studied what captivated your interest the most—space—and threw your soul into learning about the physics of the universe.

You laid on your dorm bed, playing with the edges of your pink comforter as you gossiped with your roommate, Irena, about the professor that she thought was hot and the boy who tried to harass you for your number after you’d finished up getting lunch.

You lived a normal life, which is pretty ironic, because the only reason you got to say that was because you were born to not-normal people who had been at the right place at the right time when the world fell apart.

You see, when everyone got sick, some areas got hit harder than others. And your parents, who were vacationing in some swanky exclusive Canadian resort that only the elite knew about, happened to hit the jackpot.

Not only was their vacation spot the one area in North America with a significant metropolitan population that managed to get enough time to adequately prepare, they happened to be traveling with some big-wig execs that knew a guy who knew a guy who was in the process of evacuating and putting the final touches on a safe zone, Terranova, intended for only the highest rungs of North American society.

So, there you were. Some 25 years or so after the world as your ancestors knew it fell to shit—and you were sipping cappuccinos and getting facials without a care in the world. All because of a lucky vacation.

And, for the record, it’s not that you were ungrateful. You knew that you were lucky to be living in the last place on earth with a semblance of normalcy. What you didn’t know, however, was just how lucky you were, and you didn’t find this out until you made that one stupid mistake in Gunther’s lab.

~

“Morning, Y/N!” called out Professor Gunther, a short, squatty man with a receding hairline so impressive that his forehead now ended halfway up his scalp.

“Morning, Professor,” you said, setting your bag down on the desk, winding your long scarf from around your neck and running a hand through your hair to get the tangles out. The wind outside had been especially fierce for February, which was not ideal given that you'd forgotten your hat at home.

“Guess what I’ve got?” Gunther was smiling, his teeth perfect white squares.

You gasped. “No. It’s already here?”

He said nothing; instead, he pushed forward a slightly battered box with dents and various smudges and marks that were telltale indicators for outside shipments.

“No way,” you said, pulling it into your hands. For a moment you debated using your nails to open the seam, but you’d just gotten them done, so you reached for a pair of scissors on the table.

“This is even more than we need,” you told Gunther, reaching in to pull out a spool of wire that shimmered under the lab lights. “Can I just hook it up now? Or is there something else I should do?”

There was, in fact, something that you should’ve done before going with your pliers and wire. Something about your model wasn’t quite right, but you’d figure that out a little too late.

You see, you and old Professor Gunther were attempting to build a prototype that would enable travel at the speed of light. It did sound insane—and you should’ve known that it was a pipe dream—but you were a space nerd with nearly limitless funding and support from one of the most famous surviving professors in the world. It had been Gunther’s pet project, one that you joined as a research assistant in your first year at the university. Once you’d caught wind of it, you couldn’t stay away, and you two quickly began to form a connection only understood by lonely and isolated academics.

“Go for it,” said Gunther, waving his hand dismissively.

Excitedly, you approached the table, your hands almost shaking as you held the wire. It was a fairly new invention, first used in the creation of Terranova and its walls to effectively make it invisible to the outside world. It boasted a variety of properties that made it academically fascinating and functionally useful. Gunther had had a suspicion that it would be useful in stabilizing the process of disseminating atoms to make light speed travel possible, so you’d placed the order for a couple of spools.

“And I think that’s it,” you said, using your pliers to shape the blunt edge that you had just clipped and plugging it into the circuit board. A purple sheen seemed to vibrate around the bundle of wires and boxes.

Gunther leaned over your shoulder, peering at everything through the spectacles perched on his pudgy nose. “Well done, dear. Say, before we turn this thing on and start running some preliminary tests, would you mind grabbing us some tea from the caf? My treat.”

“Of course,” you said, standing up and brushing your hands off. “Lapsang?”

He nodded. “And anything you’d like.”

You pulled my scarf back on, pulling it snugly around your neck and snatching your bag from the table. The walk to the cafeteria was short, but it was cold enough to require suiting up again. You ordered, paid with Gunther’s card, and sat quietly as you watched the snow fall outside.

It was a beautiful morning. The wind had died down, leaving the snow to fall from the gray skies in fat, puffy flakes. The city outside was quiet, with only the gentle hum of the occasional car to break the silence.

“Y/N! A Lapsang Souchong and a Jasmine Green?”

You leapt up and grabbed the two disposable cups, smiling widely at the barista. “Hey, would you mind throwing a bag of coffee in too?”

“Anything specific?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything about coffee,” you admitted. “Anything that isn’t decaf. It’s for my roommate.”

He nodded and rang you up for the coffee, and you were back on your way.

“My dear!” boomed Gunther when you came back, throwing the lab door open and nearly floating off the ground in excitement.

“Lapsang with a spot of honey, as always,” you said, passing the cup into his hands. The bite from the heat slowly faded from your palm—the barista had forgotten to put a sleeve on his cup.

“Lovely,” he said, setting it down next to you. “I’m just going to go ahead and flip the switch…keep your wits about you! Haha.”

“Ha,” you said, though suddenly you were getting more nervous. The longer you looked at the wires, the less sense they made. And was that two uncovered wires touching? ”Hey, wait, actually—”

Click.

A hum filled the room as the power flicked on. The bright white overhead lights flickered once, twice, and then went out. Something that smelled suspiciously like smoke filled the room.

“Fuck!” Gunther fumbled for the switch. You, similarly, lunged forward to see if you could manually disconnect the wires from the input. “It’s short circ—”

As soon as you made contact with the input wire, you heard the sound of a cup tipping over seconds before the splashing of hot tea.

Then everything went black.

~

When you awoke, it was because you were shaking so hard that your teeth were clicking painfully together.

Slowly, you pulled open my eyelids to see a brilliantly blue sky without a cloud in sight, wide and unimpeded by any skyscrapers. This was definitely not Gunther’s lab.

You groaned as feeling began to return to your body, along with a thudding headache and soreness in every joint. Gently, you pressed your weight into your fingers and slowly sat yourself up, making observations as you went.

You were not dead. Your heart was still beating and your nerves still functioned as usual. You had no idea how long you'd been lying on the ground, but it had to have been at least an hour given that the sun was almost in the middle of the sky.

Another observation: you were nowhere near Terranova.

Instead, you were in the clearing of a forest, surrounded by trees with unfamiliar trunk patterns and leaves. A thick bed of white snow coated everything in sight except for you.

You were well and truly fucked. There was nowhere even remotely nearby the city that you knew was in a fully forested area.

Though at least now you held the title of the first person alive to travel at light speed. It was a small comfort, but it was something to cling to.

A shriek sounded behind you, and you spun around, still seated on the ground. The forest line was clear, but you could hear rustling. For a moment you considered that it could be an animal, but it didn’t sound like any woodland creature. It sounded unmistakably human.

“Hello?” you called out.

The shriek came again, accompanied by more crunching—both much closer this time.

“Are you alright?” you asked, hoping your voice would carry to whoever it was. “Are you hurt?”

A mangled man suddenly came into sight as he fell into the clearing from a lopsided sprint, barreling right towards you. One of his knees was bent outwards as he went, so badly it looked broken, but it wasn’t enough to slow him down as he ran towards you.

You screamed, a real and proper one that pierced the frigid air. There was no time for to run as the man closed the gap and rammed into you, his filthy hands gripping your arms through your heavy jacket as his snapping teeth and rancid breath lunged for your neck.

Bang!

A single shot rang out. The man fell limp, slumping on top of you as you frantically snapped into motion and scrambled out from under him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You whipped back around to see a girl standing at the other side of the clearing, a revolver in her hand and an incredibly cross expression etched into her features. She must’ve been around your age, and she had short auburn hair that barely brushed her shoulders and was being tossed about by the wind. There was a spattering of freckles across her face, muted against the backdrop of her cheeks reddened from exertion.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small and pathetic. You couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m Y/N.”

The girl just stared at you for a few more beats before turning back. “Jesse! Dina! Some help?”

You pulled your knees into your chest as you waited for whatever was to come. Now that the man was off of you, you could see that there was blood trickling from his gaping maw. Something that looked almost like shards had sprouted, like little spring buds, in little areas around his face. Even his normal, unshard-ed skin was a pallor that looked like death. Something wasn’t right here.

“Okay,” said the girl, gruffer this time. “Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are just waltzing in like this, but this isn’t open to the public, alright? You’re trespassing.”

“Sorry,” you said, shrinking further into yourself as you thumbed the edges of your scarf. “I didn’t know.”

“Get the hell out of here,” she said, grabbing your backpack from the ground near her feet and throwing it at you.

Two other people emerged from the trees, another girl and one guy. They all seemed roughly the same age—early 20s, maybe—and were all carrying various weapons ranging from guns to knives.

To say you were on edge would be the understatement of the century.

They spoke in hushed tones as they approached the first girl.

“I don’t understand,” the other girl said, long black locks escaping from her ponytail. “We literally just patrolled this area. There’s no way to get here without either going through the town or going over the pass, and no one’s done that.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see her then?” The boy looked curiously at you.

“Fucking obviously,” snapped the first girl. “I think we would’ve noticed.” Then, directed at you: “Hey. How’d you even wind up here?”

“Uh….” Your mouth became dry. “Where am I again?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t even know?”

“Ellie,” warned the other girl. “Maybe she’s been out here for a while. Hypothermia can make you think crazy things.”

“She doesn’t look like she’s been out here for long,” pointed out the first girl, presumably Ellie.

“You’re right outside Jackson,” said the other girl helpfully.

“How close am I to Terranova?”

“The fuck is Terra-whatta?” Ellie frowned at you.

“Where I live,” you said. “I—I’m a student there. I was working on a project and something went wrong and then all of a sudden I woke up here and—what is that thing?” You gestured frantically at the limp body of the man beside you, the shock slowly subsiding as reality set in. “He almost killed me!”

Ellie gaped at you along with her two friends. “What do you mean, what is that thing? Have you never seen a runner before?”

“A runner?” You stared back. “These things are normal enough for you to have a name for them?”

“Oh my god,” said Ellie, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Have you, like, never been outside before?”

“No,” you said, honestly. “I’ve never left the city walls.”

“We have got to take her back with us,” said the other girl.

“Dina.” Ellie scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dina’s right,” said the guy, finally chiming in. “We can’t just leave her out here. She doesn’t even know what a runner is. She’s gonna be killed like that.”

Ellie considered, gnawing her lip. “Fine. Consider this your lucky day, Y/N. Get up.”

The first thing you did upon reaching your feet was faint once again.

~

“I told you, Joel, we just found her like this! Lying on the ground, with nothing but her bag.”

A man said something that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Yes. I went through it. No weapons, just…weird things. Like this.”

Your eyes snapped open to see Dina rooting around in your backpack, pulling out your laptop. You were laid horizontally on a table in some warmly lit home.

“Hey!” you said. She turned around, along with a tall, buff man at her side. “Be careful with that. That has all my homework on it.”

“See?” Dina whispered. “Do you think she hit her head or something, Joel?”

Joel frowned, picking up your laptop despite your protests. “I haven’t seen one of these in…I can’t even remember how long. And I’ve never seen one this slim before. Where’d you say you got this, er…”

“Y/N,” Dina supplied.

“From my university,” you said. There was a fire that crackled somewhere behind you, and it sounded comforting. “They provide all students with laptops. That’s how we do most of our schoolwork.”

“Let me guess,” said Joel. “You from the North? A place called Terra Something?”

“That’s a real thing?” Ellie came from around the corner, standing with her arms crossed. She’d changed out of her heavy winter coat and was instead wearing a dark gray hoodie with the strings tied into a bow.

“Never been there myself,” he said. “But when I was doing supply runs back in Boston we always heard whispers of a safezone in Canada. For rich assholes who had some even richer survivalist friends. The Fireflies attempted to break in for years, but they could never find it.”

“So, like a QZ?” asked Ellie, looking genuinely curious.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. No one acknowledged it.

“Not quite,” said Joel. “No FEDRA. With no military presence, I’m sure it was a hell of a lot cushier living there. Wasn’t it, Y/N?”

“I don’t have anything to compare it to,” you said. “But, yeah. I guess it was nice. It was just normal, I guess. Nothing extraordinary.”

“You’re wearing a cashmere scarf,” Joel pointed out. “That’s not what I’d call normal in the apocalypse.”

You blushed, pulling at the fringes of said black scarf. The fabric was thin and soft, impossibly warm against your bare neck. “It didn’t—it doesn’t feel like the apocalypse in Terranova.”

“And how’d you make it all the way out here?”

“I’m a research assistant for a professor attempting to invent travel at the speed of light,” you said. “We just hooked it up to a different wire today. It short-circuited and when my professor and I rushed to shut it off, he spilled his tea on me and the prototype. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

Joel blinked. “What now?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” you said, defensively pulling your knees to your chest. “But I’m telling the truth, honestly. Plus, look at me.” You let go of your scarf and held out your hands, letting the glow of the fire catch the immaculate pearl polish on your fingers. “Do I look like someone who’s traveled from Canada to wherever I am now?”

“She’s got a point,” said Dina, nodding thoughtfully. “It really must be nice where you come from to have hands like that. It doesn’t look like you’ve done a day of work in your life. Reckon you could take us back with you?”

Joel sent her a stern look. “What did you parents do to gain access to a place like that? You the daughter of the president or something?”

“No. They just got lucky,” you explained. “They were summering in Canada and happened to befriend the founders of Terranova right before outbreak day.”

“‘Summering’,” repeated Joel. “It’s been a while since I heard someone use a season as a verb. Somehow it’s not been long enough.”

You cringed.

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little disappointing to hear that folks like your parents are still living in the lap of luxury, even after the world ended,” said Joel. “A part of me hoped that karma would get ‘em.”

“I didn’t realize how bad it was out here,” you said defensively. “They didn’t even tell me about…what was that that tried to kill me out there? Walkers?”

“Runners,” Ellie supplied. She watched you quietly from her position leaning up against the couch.

“You ran into one?” asked Joel, another wrinkle appearing in his forehead. “Ellie, have you checked her for bites?”

Ellie’s freckled face paled as she swore. “Fuck. No, I forgot. I should’ve done it in the clearing.”

“Well, better now than never. Listen, I gotta meet up with Tommy. You check ‘er. You got a gun ready, just in case?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, looking thoroughly scandalized. “What do you mean, just in case?”

“I’ll be outside,” said Dina, following Joel as he left the door.

“How come it’s my job?” Ellie called after them. “No one asked me how I felt about this!”

The door banged shut in reply. She turned back to face you, her lips set into a firm line. “Fine. Take your coat off. Let’s make this quick.”

“I didn’t feel anything bite me,” you said, grabbing your knees tighter to your chest. Ellie was intimidating and scary, and you rather liked how you currently wore an extra layer of protection.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say.” She walked over to you, grabbing your scarf and unwinding it from your neck. “Shit. Is this what Joel called cashmere?”

“Yeah,” you said, watching as she stared at the fabric pooled in her hands. “It’s nothing special, really. Everyone wears them in Terranova.”

Ellie stared at you. “Can you stop saying Terranova? I swear it’s every third word that comes out of your mouth. I honestly couldn’t give a shit about whatever fantasyland you grew up in while the rest of us dealt with the real world.”

You opened your mouth, then thought better of it and closed it. It was discombobulating to hear a stranger swear so often at you.

Ellie knocked your hands from your knees and stared down at you. “Are you actually gonna make me take off everything myself? Do they have hired help to unzip your coats in Terra Novella?”

“Terranova.”

Ellie let out a sharp sigh, then lunged for the zipper near your throat.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you said, yanking yourself away and pulling your zipper down to reveal your standard lab outfit—a satiny button up shirt tucked into slacks. You pulled the rest of your puffer off, letting it drop in a pile next to you.

“So,” you said as Ellie grabbed your arm, gently rolling up the fabric of your blouse and turning your forearm back and forth, “Is this, like, a normal thing? To have deranged people in the woods attack you like that?”

“They’re not people,” she said quietly. Satisfied with your left arm, she moved to the next and let your unbuttoned sleeve fall. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie’s fingers encircled your right wrist as she fiddled with your sleeve. They were warm as they brushed across your skin, just barely touching you. “You really don’t know? I thought you at least knew about outbreak day.”

“Of course I know about outbreak day,” you said defensively. “I’m not stupid.”

Ellie arched a brow.

“They told us that it was a virus,” you added. “That it was lethal and incredibly infectious. Is that not what happened?”

“It’s not a virus, it’s a fungus,” corrected Ellie, letting go of your sleeve and stepping back as you redid the buttons at your wrist. “And it doesn’t just kill. It turns you into—into something like what you saw today. You lose your mind. The only thing that matters to you is biting everyone and spreading the infection.”

“Oh.”

“I saw you get tackled. Did your legs get scratched up at all?”

“No,” you responded, feeling thankful that you wouldn’t need to take your pants off. In that moment, literally nothing seemed more embarrassing. Your hands had begun to shake again.

“Didn’t think so.”

“If it had bitten me, would that mean that I…I would get sick too?”

“Nice going, Sherlock,” said Ellie, returning to her spot against the couch. “Really stellar reasoning skills there.”

You pulled your knees back into your chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. All this time you’d thought it was just a virus—a measly virus that killed. That it could be anything else had never occurred to you.

“Keep shaking and I’m going to start to think that you were bitten.” She smiled thinly at you from across the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your teeth bouncing against each other once before you clenched your jaw. “Please cut me some slack. This is just a lot to take in. If you’ll recall, I’ve just been the first person in history to undergo atomic dissolution and reassembly. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Ellie, her eyes narrowed. “It’s a wonder any of us are alive.”

Your lips pressed tightly together as you sat, trying your best not to lose it at her. You’d always been brought up to be kind, to be forgiving and sweet and polite. After all, there was never any reason not to be. Terranova’s culture put a heavy emphasis on keeping the peace no matter what. Your parents rarely ever raised their voices. Your professors kindly and respectfully asked their pupils to settle down if they were too noisy, but since you were all brought up with impeccable manners, such instances were few and far between. It just wasn’t a thing to chew strangers out. Such behavior was only reserved for extraordinary situations of the like you’d never experienced. Speaking of manners…

“Thank you,” you said, finally. Yeah, you could be the bigger person.

Ellie’s gaze snapped up to you, her brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“For saving me,” you clarified, avoiding her eyes. They were uncomfortably piercing. “Sorry. I should’ve thanked you earlier. That was rude of me. And I’m also sorry for just barging in here. I promise it wasn’t on purpose. Trust me, I would do anything to be back home right now.”

“I bet you would.” Her eyes dropped briefly to your hands, unblemished and smooth as they clutched your knees. Not even a cuticle was out of place, a result of your weekly manicures and daily lotion habit.

“Sorry,” you said again, feeling heat rise in your cheeks once again. “I probably sound so insufferable and spoiled to you.”  

“Just—” She paused, frowning. “Just stop apologizing. It’s fine. It’s not your fault, or whatever.” The words seemed to pain her.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. Now that you’d had a moment to draw in a few deep breaths, your hands were steady once again.

“Quarantine Zone,” said Ellie. “Established by what was left of the government for those of us normal people. There are a couple scattered around the country in the big cities.”

“Did you live in one? What’re they like?”

She was about to answer when the door banged open.

“Ellie!” Dina’s voice was breathless. “Joel wants me and you to go out and finish the patrol route together. She alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, hanging your legs off the table and reaching for your puffer.

“God, I fucking love that shirt,” said Dina. “Can I touch it? It looks so soft.”

You had a feeling that you would get on well with her. “Sure.”

“It’s not that soft,” said Ellie from the couch.

“Shut up, Ellie!” Dina walked over to you, grabbing the dangling fabric from your loose sleeves and letting it thread through her fingers. “Sorry about her, Y/N. She’s just like that sometimes.”

“Dina!”

Dina ignored Ellie’s protests, giving you a look full of mirth as she stepped back. “For the record, it was that soft.”

“You couldn’t wear it anywhere,” argued Ellie. “It looks ridiculous. Infected would just snag right onto the sleeves. That’s only if you didn’t get tangled up in a tree from all that loose fabric first.”

“There’s not an abundance of trees or sick fungus people in my research lab,” you said awkwardly. “So that’s not really something that crossed my mind when I got ready this morning.”

“Ha!” Dina’s eyes scrunched. “Ellie, be nice. Maybe she’ll claim us both as her long-lost sisters and get us into wherever she came from, but she’s not gonna if you keep acting like this.”

“It’s okay,” you said, shrugging. “I get it. I can’t even begin to imagine how much different your lives are out here. And, I mean, I probably could if you wanted. I’m pretty sure that all you need is a connection and a negative test for whatever the fungus is called.”

“See?” Dina gestured towards you. “Listen to her. She’s so wholesome.”

“I’d be wholesome too if I led the kind of life where I didn’t know about the infected and got to wear dumb shirts like that all day.”

Dina huffed. “Listen, Y/N, Ellie and I are gonna finish up with patrolling. I’m assuming you want to stay in Jackson until you figure everything out?”

You nodded. “If that’s alright. I don’t mean to impose.”

“We’ll talk to Maria and Tommy once we get back and see about getting you set up somewhere temporarily,” said Dina. “For now, you can just stay at Ellie’s until we finish up. Sound good?”

“Dina!” protested Ellie. “You’re just gonna leave her here unattended without even asking me?”

“What’s she gonna do? Ransack the town? With what weapon, Ellie? Her bare hands? She looks like she’d be blown over if I breathed too hard in her direction.”

You flushed. Sure, you’d never really seen much of a point of bulking up and working out when you were nothing but a student who spent all of her time goofing off with wires and telescopes, but it was humbling to have it pointed out so blatantly.

“She wouldn’t make it a day outside,” continued Dina. “I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try anything. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You blinked. “I mean, yeah. I’ve never spent a day without electricity and hot running water, so I’m not really clambering to leave and live in the woods.”

Ellie sighed sharply. “Fine. Cool. Whatever. Just stay where you are, okay? And don’t even think about touching anything.”

~

By the time that she returned with Joel, you were sitting at the table, 2 chapters deep into the one textbook you’d brought along with you for one of your courses.

“Glad to see the house still standing,” Joel quipped as he worked his heavy coat off his shoulders and pulled his boots off. Ellie trailed behind him, hanging up her coat and pulling off a pair of black gloves. “Ellie was concerned you’d raze the whole town.”

“I’m honored that she thinks me so capable,” you said in response, wincing as you had to dogear your textbook, your bookmarks and sticky notes tucked safely in your dorm desk far away.

Ellie sent you an irritated look before her gaze dropped to the textbook in your lap. It lingered for a moment, just long enough for you to know that she was reading the title Exoplanetary Systems.

“Tommy and Maria have decided to let you stay until you get back on your feet,” said Joel, oblivious to the hostility coming from Ellie. “There’s a cottage down the street that’ll be ready for you to move into soon. For now, you can stay with us. There’s an extra room across the hall from Ellie’s.”

“That’s too kind of you,” you said, your voice smooth and gracious after years of having your manners picked apart by your parents.  

Joel looked mildly uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah. Don’t mention it. You know how to ride a horse?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good,” said Joel. “Can you shoot, too?”

You stared. “Uh, shoot what?”

“A gun,” said Ellie slowly. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth contorted into a scowl. She did not seem overjoyed at the prospect of a new housemate.

“No,” you said. Your ears felt like they were on fire. “There’s, uh, a strict ban on guns in Terr–where I grew up. There was no reason to shoot anything.”

Joel whistled. “Well, imagine that. So maybe we won’t put you on patrol just yet. We’ll find something else for you to do. Got any other skills?”

Before you answered, Joel picked up your bag and peered inside of it. “Say, is this a bag of coffee?”

He pulled out the bag of coffee grinds that you’d picked up at the cafe.

“Yeah!” you said. “Before the, uh, accident, my professor sent me to get him tea from the cafeteria. I ended up picking those up since my roommate and I were out. You drink coffee?”

“Not much anymore,” said Joel, picking up the bag and weighing it back and forth. “It’s hard to come by out here. You have to pay an arm and a leg to get just a bit. I haven’t seen a bag like this since before the outbreak.”

“It’s yours,” you said quickly. “I don’t even really like coffee. I just drank it because my roommate would make me a cup.”

Joel shook his head and placed it back in your bag. “No, I couldn’t do that. I’d probably have to trade my whole arsenal plus a horse to get something this big.”

“Please, I insist,” you said. “It’s the least I can do. It’s just going to sit in my bag anyway. You’d appreciate it more.”

“Well…” Joel gave you a considering look. “I s’pose this could cover your work for a few weeks until either we find another job for you or Ellie teaches you to shoot.”

“Joel!” Ellie interjected. “I have my own shit to do.”

“That’s really generous of you,” you said, smiling at Joel. “But you could honestly just take the bag—no need to offer any reimbursement.”

Joel grunted and picked the bag up again, slinging it onto the counter behind him. “Maria’s never gonna believe me until she sees this. Full bag of monsoon malabar…didn’t even think they had that shit anymore…” He continued to mumble to himself as he shuffled around, opening and closing cabinets behind you.

When you looked back up, Ellie was staring again at your book, a line in her brow.

“You can borrow it, if you’d like.” You pushed the book towards her as a poor attempt to call a truce between you two. “It’s not like I actually need to do the reading anymore. I’m already missing lecture.”

You winced at the thought of getting behind in your classes. In the very likely case you weren’t getting back in the next few days, you’d probably need to take a gap semester and return in the fall, delaying your graduation date another 4 months. Your parents were going to kill you. This was going to create an unfillable hole in your resume. “Shooting a gun” and “riding horses” were not acceptable activities to explain away why you took a whole season off.

“No thanks,” said Ellie, pushing it back to you. “Keep it. I don’t want it.”

“It’s about solar systems outside of our locale,” you continued. “There’s a bunch of them. It’s actually really interesting.”

“It doesn’t really sound like it,” she said, but there was no venom behind her voice—just something that sounded like exhaustion.  

“Maybe not.” You sighed, deflated. So much for a white flag. “I guess it must seem pretty ridiculous to you.”

Ellie stood there, her arms still crossed and her frown deep. “Joel,” she said, speaking over your shoulder, “I’m going out. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” said Joel. You could hear him bustling around in what you assumed was a kitchen, filling a kettle with water and lighting the gas top stove.

When you turned back around, Ellie was already out the door, coat slung over her arm as she shut it.

Before the door closed entirely, her eyes snapped up to meet yours like she knew you’d been watching her.

She was gone before you had the chance to lift your hand to wave goodbye.

again apologies for this if you’ve made it this far. please confiscate my laptop. part 2 coming soon (?) if u want also im not an astrophysics student im a thickheaded cs student who barely survived ap physics so im sorry if i’m doing a disservice to the academic field of astronomy idk shit about it 

[achromant]

AND HERE WE ARE! My project for the gw2 'zine!

Featuring Baruhn, reflecting on his life so far, the challenges, the small sparks of joy, the horrors, loss and gain.

For clarification's sake; I did in fact plan to depict every stage of Baruhn's life, but uuh. File was already too big.

Might do a series of short comics (graphic novels?) though, because i fking love storytelling.

Let's look at my idiotic level of detail a bit, eh?

[Long Text Ahead]

Baruhn's story begins in the Plains of Ashford. An unsuccessful attempt to stem the tide of Ascalonian Ghosts leads to the demise of many year-long allies. Dozens of brave soldiers gave their life for a mere week of peace until the ghosts reformed. They always do. Soldiers don't.

Shaken in his faith in the Legions, the first seeds of doubt arise.

Until finally he found someone to trust with his pain. In a tavern at the edge of the Black Citadel, he gets to know this odd fellow, who is continuosly follow by the faint smell of sulfur. Although Baruhn knew where that path led, the warmth radiating from the old veteran in front of him was not only a physical, but an emotional one.

With the Three Legions busy with their internal quarrels, fighting over an empty promise, Baruhn took the first steps down a previously thought to be dark path.

Surprisingly, die Flame Legion was welcoming, their fires offered light and guidance, the embers igniting the skies like stars. Surely this was better than the cold metal over the Black Citadel.

Baruhn took to learning first, handling the small flames with ease after years of throwing fireballs at ghostly shapes. Then, he figured out how to teach, and that is where the real magic comes from. Nurturing a flame, protecting it from harsh winds, adding a bit of kindling and coal here and there. He even taught the more elusive ways of magic that wield smoke and ash.

Baruhn knew about the war, the countless lifes lost on the other side of the fence. But those were humans, and here he was among family.

That is, until he met Molly.

After a small recon mission that was assured not to be much of a hurdle, Baruhn found himself alone in a forest. The small fires he conjured for light and warmth only drew in the nearby villagers. Those with pitchforks and torches, with crude swords and a thirst for blood. He couldn't really bring himself to hate them, this was war after all. But at what cost are these battles to be won?

Trying to escape the villagers was a futile attempt. He sank to the ground, his own hot blood dousing the little flames beneath his weary head.

For some reason - maybe hope, maybe resignation - he forced open his heavy eyes, only to discover his wounds cleaned and bandaged with fragile white cloth. A small human girl, of all things in this damned forest, tried to help. Even in his weakened state, even with just one hand, Baruhn could have easily grabbed her and cracked her skull. But the only thing he did was listen. He listened to the ramblings of the small human, going on and on about faries made of leaves and gnomes of stone. She called him "bear".

When the villagers came, they saw the girl at his side. That was all it took for them to turn on her. She was to be executed like that beast that now slowly stepped in front of her. For the first time, Baruhn spoke to the girl. "close your eyes."

Fire roared, not red, not orange. not a warm, welcoming fire. Not one that belongs in a hearth, that thrives in the arms of a family. This was so much worse. This was years of inner conflict, of doubt, of closing his eyes on the other side of the fence. For the first time in his life, this was the only thing that he wanted to do, protect the little insignificant human behind him. Fire roared, and it burned wood and it burned flesh.

Baruhn picked up the little girl, she held tight to his horns, nestled in his mane. He ran for hours, years of military training finally useful. The little girl, Molly, lost her mother years ago. She burned in the fires of a war she tried to escape. "And your father? What about your family?", he asked between deep breaths. Molly was quiet for a while, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "My father burned today."

They stayed together, for quite a while. He protected her, and she, with her head full of stories, and a book full of dreams, protected him.

Things came, things went. Baruhn rejoined the High Legions, acting as a spy for Ash, keeping an eye on Iron and Blood.

Baruhn ultimately took on his role as Novice, then Archivist, then Commander. He helped during the struggles against Scarlet. A small flame here and there, some shrouding smoke, a well timed lightning strike. It was other people that finally defeated Scarlet, but he was always in the background, with all the small things at just the right time.

Mordremoth came, but with him new allies.

It was but a small tangent in the grand scheme of things. Watching the fragile sapling while waging war on the jungle itself.

Their relation was something more than friendship, something else than love. They were there for each other when they needed to be. Be it only to keep a flame burning or to banish the voices to the back of the head again, they walked the same path for a long time.

Tarir, the Egg. Aurene. A new flame entrusted to him, his to nurture, his to raise. A gamble, again. What if that little flame would some day devour the world? But Baruhn did, what he could do best. Teach.

Darker times came. Caudecus and the White Mantle. The raid on the Mursaat's prison. Then facing the last Mursaat himself.

Balthazar came, and in his wake a new kind of fire. A war, similar to the ones Baruhn had seen before, but still different. A war without a cause, war for war's sake. War against nature, against the world, like a child lashing out when there were none to help them up. Maybe Balthazar's flames were not too different from his.

After the festering swamp that Joko was, came the mountain, Kralkatorrik. Death was not a hindrance anymore, not for the Commander and his dragon. The story went as the story goes.

When it came to face the frost, the whispers, Jormag. Everything fell apart. Jormag pried into the deepest, darkest corners of Baruhn's life, dragged every doubt, small as it may have been, into the light. In the ice, every truth was warped, encased in whispers, in lies. It suffocated any hope and planted even darker seeds than anyone thought possible.

It was the spirit of the Raven that aided Baruhn. Even the black feathers of its wings were shimmering like rainbows in the moonlight.

A small piece stayed with him, just a fragment. Nevermore.

After that, the stars themselves. Astralaria.

So many stories that make a life, so many pieces. Every encounter, every step along the way is another fragment of the whole. People are made of other people, that is what it means to be alive.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (17)

The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys

After being reunited after so long, Aemond has one request of Arianwyn: to read him a story.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Arianwyn could have spent the rest of her life with her face pressed against Aemond’s cheek, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around her and inhaling his familiar scent of parchment and steel – now laced with brimstone. But the commotion from the Velaryon arrival was fading, and she knew the crowd’s attention would soon be drawn to the prince openly embracing a young lady in a way that was not entirely proper. She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. Still, he did not break contact, keeping his arms firmly around her waist.

As expected, those in the training yard and on the ramparts were staring at them—knights, courtiers, servants… and her stepbrothers.

Luke still cowered behind his brother, fearful now that the uncle he mutilated had become such a fierce warrior. Jace was far less intimidated. His stare was filled with the promise of retribution, and Arianwyn knew that as soon as he had the chance, he would report everything he had seen to Daemon.

Desperate to escape those dark, prying eyes, Arianwyn shyly looked back up at Aemond. “Do you need to return to your training?” she asked, “I believe Ser Criston is waiting for you.”

For a moment, she thought Aemond would not respond. He just stood there, looking at her as if she were some mythical being. Like he wasn’t entirely convinced she was real. “No,” he said, his voice low and soft, a rich sound that seemed to rumble through Arianwyn’s chest like thunder through the sky. “I have been here since dawn; I am long overdue for a break.”

With that, he took her hand and surged up the stairs, pulling her with him into the passageways of the Red Keep. Arianwyn was so delighted to be with him again, her jubilant laughter echoing off the stone walls, that she did not realize where he was leading her until they came to the door.

Her door.

She released her hand from Aemond’s and laid it on the dark wood. “Why have you brought me here?” she asked, tracing the runes they had carved into the door years ago to ward off monsters and spirits.

Aemond was nearly silent beside her, but she felt his presence as if it were the air she breathed. A heavy but welcome weight upon her heart – a perfect embrace. “They are your rooms. I thought you would be eager to see them again.”

She turned back to him and could not suppress her smile. After all these years, they were together again. They stood before the rooms in which they spent half of their youth. It felt like it was meant to be. As if they were always fated to be here again.

“Surely they belong to someone else now,” she said. “It has been eight years.”

A subtle smile spread across his lips, not the broad, toothy grin she remembered as he reached around her to open the door. Then, he stepped back and motioned for her to enter. She did so hesitantly, half-expecting them to be walking in on some stranger’s afternoon tea.

They did not.

Her solar looked precisely as she remembered it.

The same furniture, the same curtains and tapestries. Her old cloak, made of thick brown wool and lined with bear fur, was still draped over her favorite reading chair. Two ancient bronze swords, their fullers engraved with Runes, still hung above the fireplace. Hanging from their handles, tied with faded green ribbon, were scraps of parchment bearing Aemond’s writing – the translation of the Runes they had written years ago.

Arianwyn approached the mantle, reaching out to read the note written in Aemond’s youthful scrawl. The paper was brittle with age, but the ink had not faded. When she tied them on so many years ago, she had not realized that he had drawn a figure, whom she could only assume was the prince himself, wielding the blades as he defended a long-haired maiden from some shapeless beast.

“How?” she asked, unable to tear herself from the artwork.

Aemond came to her side, the space between them sizzling like air broken by dragonfire. “Ser Gerold wanted to empty it and bring everything back to Runestone after he and Lady Arryn failed to secure your release. I would not allow it,” he murmured. “Though he and mother lost hope after that, I knew that eventually, you would return to me… and to all of us.”

She, at last, looked away from the note but remained with her back to Aemond as she stared into the long-cold ashes in the fireplace. “I came close to losing hope as well.” So many times throughout those years, she would fall into loneliness and despair, and not even Brynna or Ser Adrew could draw her out. “I would have, were it not for your letters.”

Knowing that he was still out there, that he still thought of her each day and cared enough to send long, thoughtful letters even when he was infirm, was like the sun breaking through dark, stormy clouds. Each piece of fine parchment bearing his seal was a lifeline she clung to, each one still resting in a trunk in her tower, just below her favorite window. She would read them so often, not only for the lack of books at Dragonstone but –

“What is that?” As she turned to face him, her eyes were drawn to the far corner of the solar, where her bookshelves had once been. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were still there, only now buried within a massive pile of neatly stacked books so high it nearly reached the ceiling.

“That,” Aemond said, setting his hands on her shoulders and leading her across the room, “is eight years of reading for you to catch up on.”

“You cannot be serious!” Arianwyn let out a barking laugh as she craned her neck to take in the entire pile. It was so tall that she would not be able to reach half the books without assistance from someone taller. She took a step back, coming to rest against Aemond’s chest. “You’ve read all of this since I’ve been gone?”

“I’ve read more,” he replied with a smug smile that she could not see but heard in the lilt of his voice. “These are just those I thought you would like, or wanted to discuss with you, or… what I wanted to hear you read aloud.”

At that, Arianwyn turned to face him, the corner of her mouth quirking/”::: up in a wicked grin. She raised her brows in an expression of mock pity. “Are you still struggling with the big words?”

Aemond did his best to scowl at her, but it quickly faltered and morphed into that new small smile of his. “Not for years, Aria.”

Her laughter faded when he laid a hand on her waist, guiding her backward until she was pressed against the wall of books, and he raised one hand above her head. He was so close – their lips so near to meeting. All she had to do was lift her chin ever so slightly.

But before she could truly consider doing so, Aemond pulled away. He held a small grey book, a ribbon hanging from within. He tugged on it, coaxing it open to the page he had marked. “Some stories require your voice to do them justice.”

Arianwyn glanced down at the book. It was a collection of Valyrian myths, illustrated with lovely gilt illuminations. She did not recognize the title, The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys.

“Will you read it to me?” Aemond asked, as reverently as if it were a prayer.

Entranced by the intensity of his gaze, Arianwyn nodded. She slipped past him and walked to the velvet couch where they had often read together. The fabric had faded slightly but was kept clean enough. She sat in her usual place on the right, where she so often laid her head against the armrest while commanding Aemond what to write down.

After a moment spent simply staring at her, Aemond sat in his place on her left.

The air between them – smaller than she had remembered – crackled with something that would only take a single spark to ignite as she opened the book once more. Then, with one more furtive glance at Aemond, Arianwyn began to read:

“The island of Aethios was one of the greatest jewels of the Valyrian Freehold. The sands of the beaches sparkled as if made from pure gold, the forests lush and green, and the dragons raised on its shores grew large and strong.

This paradise was ruled by the dragonriders of House Cephaeos. Its Lords ruled wisely and justly for hundreds of years, making the island the greatest power in the Narrow Sea. It was even said by some that the Cephaeosi had made a deal with the Merling King to ensure the tides were always in their favor, for no man alive could remember a ship bearing its blue-scaled sails ever meeting a bitter end. 

But so many years of good fortune so easily won often breed weak leaders. At the height of Aethios’ power, its throne fell to Lord Aeravon – whose most demanding trial came when he had to settle a dispute over the ownership of four crab traps. He was a boastful man, certain that the glory and honor won by his ancestors was also his to bear.

One day, Aeravon was feeling particularly prideful and boasted to his court that so great was the might of House Cephaeos that even the smallest of his family’s dragons – a young beast with scales the white of sea foam which his daughter had only just taken to wing – could surely best and devour any of the Merling King’s monsters.

The court fell silent. Surely their Lord would not be so foolish as to provoke the wrath of the Merling King? Aeravon’s advisors begged him to rescind his words, but it was too late.

A great wave, taller than the topless towers of Valyria itself, crashed over the castle, bringing the pale stone roof down upon Aeravon’s court. Then, the Merling King himself stood before Aeravon’s throne.

“Your tongue wags with dangerous words, boy,” the Merling King said, pointing his three-pronged spear at the prideful Lord. “You have no respect for the sea which I command nor for my children who you now insult without shame. For this, you must pay a price equal to the offense. Bring forth the dragon of which you speak, and we shall see how it fares against the youngest of my children.”

The Lord’s daughter, Aeremys, pleaded with her father to beg the forgiveness of the Merling King so he would spare her beloved dragon, but he ignored her desperate cries. He had been issued a challenge in his own castle, and his pride would not let him refuse.

The young dragon was brought to the throne room bound in heavy chains. The pitiful beast trembled in fear along with its rider when the Merling King lifted a clawed hand to summon his child.

The court cried out when one massive webbed foot, the size of a fishing boat, seized the side of the cliffs behind Aeravon’s throne. Another followed, and the blood-red head of the Caetus came into view. It loosed a horrible roar from its mouth, filled with jagged teeth longer than ballista bolts. The ladies of the court fainted as the beast hauled its enormous body over the edge of the cliff, propelling itself towards the castle with startling speed.

All that is, except for Aeremys, who continued to cry out for her poor dragon. As the creature was devoured, chains and all, by the fearsome Caetus, it was said that her wail shattered every piece of glass on the island.

Lord Aeravon looked on with unbridled terror at the dreadful might of even the Merling King’s youngest. His skin paled as white as his hair when the Merling King again pointed his spear at him.

“Foolish man,” the Merling King said. “To think that your feeble beasts could pose a threat to my children. You and your people will suffer for your vanity.”

Even Aeravon cried when the Caetus reached out and grabbed Aeremys, carrying her away from the castle and the island as quickly as it arrived.

“You shall watch as your innocent child is devoured by my waters,” the Merlin King decreed. “Only when your heart is broken, and you cry out to your fickle gods to save you, will I grant you the mercy of death. You. Your family. Your people. Your very island shall fall to my power.”

The ground beneath the island rumbled, and great spouts of water began to spray from the cracks in the throne room tile. But Aeravon was blind to the suffering of his people. All he could see was the stone pillar that had emerged from the sea, where his beloved daughter lay naked and chained, exposed to the roiling storm that had formed around the island.

He cried to the gods, begging them to spare her, begging them to spare him and his people and the island of his ancestors. They did not listen.

Aeremys resigned herself to a painful death, anticipating the sting of salt water in her lungs or the burn of lightning on her skin. But death did not come.

Her eyes, which she had kept tightly closed since the slimy hands of the Caetus closed around her, opened to find the rain falling upon her had ceased. Instead, she beheld the gleaming silver scales of the largest dragon she had ever seen, set aglow by the light of the storm.

Astride the dragon’s back was a fearsome warrior she had met once before. Gahaelon of House Belaerys, The Silver Knight of Valyria, who had flown the entirety of the world atop his steed, Tyvaros. There was no monster he could not slay.

As if it sensed the prowess of the new arrival, the Caetus again emerged from the sea, diving with an open mouth towards Gahaelon and his dragon.

“Dracarys!” Gahaelon shouted, and his dragon obeyed. A great cone of white flame enveloped the monster, boiling the water from its very blood. As the Caetus wailed for its father to save it, Tyvaros charged, allowing Gahaelon to carve it from tooth to tail with his greatsword, Aemandra.

Before the two halves of the beast could fall into the water, Gahaelon leaped from Tyvaros’ back, using the bloodied sword to cleave Aeremys’ chains and set her free. He held her close as he wrapped her in his cloak to hide her nakedness before mounting them both upon Tyvaros.

“Come, let us save your father!”

“No!” Aeremys replied. “He has made his choice. Let him suffer the consequences.” Gahaelon needed no convincing beyond the rage he found in her eyes.

The Merling King watched as the silver dragon flew away from his storm. Though he mourned the loss of the Caetus, he remembered how Aeremys begged her father to apologize and how she cried when her dragon was devoured. He watched as Gahaelon gently kissed the tears from her cheeks with a love the Merling King had not felt in millennia. Such a love deserved mercy, he resolved.

Then, the Merling King unleashed his ultimate wrath on the island of Aethios, reducing it and its people to stones and sand that sunk to the bottom of his sea.”

Aemond barely heard the story, though he knew Aria read it beautifully. She always did. But as she read, she had shifted closer and closer to him, and he to her. He could focus on little else but the way her head rested on his shoulder, his chin nestled in her hair.

She froze momentarily as if she, too, realized how dangerously close they were. Yet she didn’t pull away.

Emboldened, he slowly moved the arm he had slung over the back of the couch down until his hand was on her waist. She did not hesitate to lean back into his chest. Though his heart raced, and he was sure she could feel it, Aemond felt calmer and more at ease than he had in years.

“I never thanked you for the book of Runes you sent,” Aria whispered as she let the book fall into her lap.

Aemond took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “There is no need to thank me, Aria,” he kept his voice soft, too, as if any noise may shatter the small piece of paradise they found themselves in. “If anything, I should be the one to thank you for the gift you gave me.”

“Do you have it with you?” She looked up at his eyepatch as if she could see what lay beneath.

“I do,” he answered, though he was unsure if he wanted to show her. The last time she had seen what remained of his eye, she had fainted. He did not want her to be as afraid of him as so many were.

But then she looked at him with those perfect silver eyes brimming with fondness and reached with hesitant fingers for the edge of his scar. “Can I see it?”

How could he deny the woman he loved? How could he ever think she could fear him? Keeping one arm around her waist, he reached for the patch.

The moment his fingers touched the leather, the door to the room swung loudly open.

In an instant, Aemond realized how they must look, entangled in each other, alone in an empty room. Suddenly desperate to protect her reputation, he hastily uncoiled his arm from her waist and stood from the couch, leaving Arianwyn dazed by his sudden retreat.

Turning to the door, he was greeted by a smiling Queen Alicent, followed by Helaena and her children.

Perfect timing, he thought wryly as he forced an innocent smile to his face.

[patrickispinky]

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2021

I got a lot of inspiration and motivation from @whoopsyeahokay series called October Sun if you haven't read it yet I recommend you do its amazing, you can find it on tumblr and Ao3. October Sun

(This is very self indulgent and based on things ive been through and how I could have very easily ended up as a ghost. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness. This is a judgment free zone so I want no bullying or hate on anyone. I'm not the best writer so be nice)

1.9k Words

Enjoy :)

-

Two days, two fucking days you’ve been rotting and no ones come to find you. Well no one alive at least. 

It started off normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Just another boring school day with the same washed out boring people. Tired eyes and even more tired souls. So what changed? A little slip up on the same thing that had almost claimed your life many times over the years except this time no one was there to save you. 

You were 14 when you first learned the only way for your brain to stop spinning, trying to find a new way to obtain peace was with a very simple little thing. Weed, this wasn't what was deadly, no it was what started the cycle. First it was weed, then it was alcohol, then it was late night parties, until one day it fell into the palm of your hand. A simple little pill, how could it cause so much damage? Things were fine until one pill turned into two then two turned into three and then you ended up on the patio of a stranger's porch foaming out the mouth. 4 days in the hospital and 2 weeks in rehab was enough to scare you for a while, but not enough to make you forget about the relief that came with it. 

That's how you ended up here, sitting in a circle sharing stories about life and death, a group of highschool boys who had no idea you were even there, playing basketball behind you. Should have just gone to group like you were told to, at least then you would have been with people who understood addiction. Now judgmental eyes fall upon you because you caused your own death. As much as you wanted to find someone, something to blame you knew you couldn't, this was your fault. The spinning hasn't stopped. At least ghosts couldn't go through withdrawal, doesn’t change the fact that the empty feeling you tried so desperately to fill is more presint than ever.  

The sweet voice of Mr.Martin fills the room. Like white nose until you heard him call your name. Head shooting up to look up at him. “Have you started working on your obituary?” Ah yes, ghost homework. you would have never thought that you would have been asked to write your own obituary yet here we are. Not as easy as it sounds.

“I’ve got some ideas” Like when you got so drunk you threw up on your friends cat, or when you were so high that your brother convinced you the plane flying over your house was a UFO, fun memories. Apparently you were supposed to write about the good parts of your life but that's kinda hard when the only good memories you had were caused by what put you in this situation to begin with. 

“Take your time, if you need to im sure some of the others wouldn't mind telling you about what they wrote, for motivation.” You give a simple nod, wanting all the prying eyes around you to look away. And they do, except a certain pair that had been watching you since you got here. 

Wally Clark, a sweet boy, bright future, died to soon like everyone else in this fucked up version of your own personal hell. He asked too many questions, it wasn't a secret how you died, just something you didn't want to talk about.  He respected that, like most of the others, most. Doesn't stop him from prying, staring with curious eyes. 

“I think that's all for today,  don't forget tomorrow's movie night as always our newest member will be picking the movie.” You give an awkward smile before standing up and turning to leave along with the rest of the group. Heavy footsteps creeping up behind you and the sound of your name being called stops you as the tall boy catches up.

“So um do you need help with your obituary? not to brag but I think I did a pretty good job on mine.” Wally was quite attractive, tall, with big brown eyes, and slick back brown fluffy hair. No doubt having made girls fawn over him during his lifetime. You and him weren't exactly friends but the idea of having a little help writing… well, a self obituary wasn't bad. 

“Sure, we could go to the library.” An excited grin grew on Wallys face, not expecting you to say yes. 

“Yeah, yeah the library sounds great” It was kinda cute how he acted sometimes. Not like a typical jock, a pure golden retriever. 

“Cool” You stand there kinda awkwardly, hands in the pockets of your red zip up hoodie as you gave him an expecting look. 

“Oh like now?” He was somehow the most confident yet most awkward person in the world. “Um okay yeah that works” 

You tilt your head sideways towards the door leading out the gym, indicating for him to follow you out. Taking the lead and making your way out, opening the door for him. “Ladies first” He let out a small chuckle at your attempt at a joke, considering it was the first time you really talked to anyone since everything happened. It wasn't that you didn't like people, you just didn’t understand the point of friends. It might sound depressing but having a small group of people that you know will stick around is better than hanging around people that barely know you. Yet here you are, stuck with strangers for eternity or until you finally move on, however long that’ll take. 

The hallway was filled with loud teens, some rushing to their next class others going out the back door, more than likely skipping. “So how does this work?” You look over at him.

“What? The afterlife?” He looks at you, a little nervous. “I don’t think im the best person to explain it to you, that's more of Charley's thing.” Charley was sweet, the first person you met when you woke up. Some sort of after life guide. 

“No, a self obituary.” The words felt weird coming out your mouth. “I know I'm supposed to write about all the great things in life but I don't think huffing nitrous in my uncles bathroom on thanksgiving really counts as a good memory.” 

“Nitrous? like the shit in whipped cream?” He gave you a sideways look, a concerned but humored smile on his face. 

“Yes, the shit in whipped cream, I don't recommend. I passed out and almost had a seizure.” As we reach the library he opens the door, allowing you to go in first. 

“Okay, maybe don’t include that in your obituary, how about” He thought for a second. “Write about your friends and family, I'm sure you have some good memories with them.” 

You let out a frustrated sigh as you sat down at a table, Wally sitting down across from you as you take off your backpack, pulling a pencil and the folder Mr.Martin had given you. “That's too much work, do you think Mr.Martin would notice if I just copied yours?” Wally laughs a little, his straight white teeth showing.

“No, he’ll totally believe that you played football and lost your virginity in your moms car.” Now you’re the one laughing, his sentence coming out way too casually. 

“You lost your virginity in your moms car?” You take a few seconds to process before you look at him judgmentally. “You included how you lost your virginity?” Though the smiles’ still apparent on your face. 

“Happy memories, remember?” And there's the jock attitude you were waiting for, somehow a bit surprising but not unexpected. “You could just write your feelings.” You have a whole journal for that from when you got sober… soberish. 

“This may come as a shock to you but I'm not exactly a feelings person.” Not totally true, it was just easier to not feel anything at all, especially with the situation you're in right now. 

“Really? I couldn't tell” The sarcastic tone in his voice very apparent. “Alright fine, if you were happiest when you were high then it's worth writing.” 

“Great, so high stories, got it” Though it wasn't the best idea, you had to write something so Mr.Martin would get off your ass about it. Reminiscing was a slippery slope, you were holding up decently so far but contrary to what all the others think it hurt deep down. “How about the first time I tried molly?” Probably one of the best ‘happy pills’ you tried in your lifetime. 

“What was it like?” He clearly had no intentions of finding out first hand, just curious of the experience. 

“It made me really aware but like in a good way.” There was no real way to describe it without going into depth. “And kinda trippy I guess, does that make sense?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” He knew he could never truly understand, no one could unless they experienced it themselves. As you begin to jot down the memory Wally peaks over, looking at the page though it's not very useful due to the fact that he doesn't possess the skill to read upside down. 

“Nosey” You laugh a little at his attempt to get to know you better. “You know if you want to get to know me, maybe there are better ways to do it then helping me write my own obituary” Yep, still didn't sound right.  

“Oh um yeah, this is probably a really weird first hang out.” He laughs awkwardly at the realization that this is still new to you. It wasn't like he had never been around a new ghost before, he knew he was supposed to be slow, supportive, ease them into it but with the way you acted sometimes made him think you were more used to this than he was. In a way you were, death was something that you had imagined so many times so when it actually came the idea of being trapped wasn't one you hadn't thought of before. “How about after we're done with this I could take you down to the pool?” 

You smile, the sentiment was sweet. “Thanks, but I don't know how to swim.” You were never taught and it didn't seem important in life so you just never learned. The surprised look on Wallys face was priceless.

“How the hell are you 18 and don’t know how to swim?” It wasn't judgmental, just a little surprised, but the grin on his face indicated that he had an idea. 

“Oh god, what are you thinking about?” You knew what was coming, he wouldn't be him if he didn’t jump at the opportunity to help a new friend. Wally was very readable and you didn’t know if that was a good thing yet. 

“I could teach you.” And there it was, of course he wanted to teach you. “It could be fun, plus you don't have much else to do.” 

“You know what fuck it, you’re right there isnt shit else to do.” Especially with your body still laying cold in the old abandoned locker rooms aka ‘the brain cave’. 

“Great, you should keep writing, the faster you get it over with the less weird it feels.” And that's how it started, you were never the friend type but as much as you hated to say it you needed someone. Sure that someone is very attractive and the idea of seeing him in nothing but swim trunks was a nice image but who could blame you? The afterlife is lonely.

Pt.2